Burning Ambitions
by Lilykit627
Summary: Post-Brotherhood, Scar and Hawkeye watch as Mustang achieves his goal. Spoilers for the end of Brotherhood. Mild swearing and violence, possible suggestive themes later. Royai, at the very least, strongly implied. Death fic. Update: Racially-motivated violence, and more complications in Central
1. Rekindling

**Disclaimer:** All content belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.

**Author's Note:** This story takes place approximately five years after the Promised Day. It's in first-person, switching between Scar and Riza Hawkeye. I started this with the intention of writing a death fic, so prepare yourself. I'm a new writer, so any helpful tips for improvement are very welcome!

* * *

**Scar**

Four years ago, General Roy Mustang and his men moved to Ishval to begin the reconstruction of our homeland. He brought Major Miles and me along so that our people will have a voice in the decisions for how to proceed. Mustang's team has been invaluable to us during this time. Thanks to Capt. Heymans Breda and Capt. Jean Havoc, we're taking full advantage of our natural resources, building an economy for ourselves in trade with both Amestris and Xing. Our crops, wheat and cotton, are flourishing, and we have enough to keep stores as our population grows. Second Lieutenant Kain Fuery has been irreplaceable in reaching out to our brethren scattered around the country in slums, and thanks to his diligence, more and more refugees are returning home every day. First Lieutenant Vato Falman, because of his experience in Briggs, has put his shoulder to the wheel wherever he is needed: one day helping draw up a list of necessary materials for accommodating new arrivals, and the next, helping to separate the cotton fibers from the seeds. Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye, while she never leaves the General's side, knows every Ishvallan by name and always makes an effort to welcome each new arrival.

The General himself, while he is often heard complaining about his workload, always completes every task ahead of schedule. Some speculate this to be the work of Lt. Colonel Hawkeye, but I know he does it out of his genuine desire to help the people of Ishval. After completing his work, he always takes time to make sure every one of his subordinates feels useful and supported. He is well loved by his men, as well as the Ishvallans.

In an effort to further his knowledge of the Ishvallan culture, he regularly sits down after dinner with Major Miles and me, sometimes asking questions about what he's observed, and other times, just listening to our stories. When others heard about these little chats, many came to join us, my master the most often visitor. Mustang listened to every story with deep interest and compassion, leaving every conversational partner feeling that their voice had been heard. It was on one such night, after my master had left, that the general had revealed his true plan to me.

"Scar, there is something I want to discuss with you." he said as the curtain settled from my master's departure. Scar was my former name, the one I had taken up when I left Ishval to take revenge upon the State Alchemists. His eyes had turned hard, a change from the kindness he had when he listened to my people. Saying nothing, I sat down on the mat across from him and waited for him to continue. He closed his eyes briefly and looked down at the floor, a slight frown on his face. "You have the right to know what my true ambitions where, why I was aiming for the top." Lt. Colonel Hawkeye glanced at him, surprised. It was obvious he had not told her that he was planning to tell me this, which was unusual for the two of them. Most of the time, it seemed as if they shared one mind in two bodies.

I nodded, feeling that a verbal response would be inappropriate. Gen. Mustang sighed. "Hawkeye, you may as well sit down." The woman knelt down on the mat next to him, keeping her back straight as she lowered herself, as Ishvallan women do. "You know Fuhrer Grumman is returning this country to a democracy?" he asked.

Again, I nodded. It was often a topic in our discussions. Mustang smiled distantly. "Yes, I suppose we've talked that one to death, haven't we? That was one of my original goals. But I intend to take it further when I reach the top." He drew a deep breath and released it. "I intend to hold trials for all of those responsible for what happened in Ishval."

He stared directly into my eyes, trying to garner my reaction. I didn't move and returned his stare. I was surprised to see that his eyes had lost their hardness and were replaced with the look of a man who carried immense grief. I had seen that look on many of the older Ishvallan refugees, and I'd seen this man turn that look into one of hope. When he didn't speak, the Lt. Colonel looked at him with concern. She'd heard all of this before, and I could tell from the way she held herself that it was a difficult subject for him.

When he spoke again, he lowered his eyes from my face and clenched his fist. "It is my intention to bring justice to the Ishvallans. I want to do more than just restore your homeland. I want to set a standard for this country, and ensure that nothing like what happened here ever happens again. What was done here was an abomination." His speech was halting, presumably out of shame.

By this point, I had realized where he was going with this little speech. "And what of you, Mustang?" I asked. From the slope of his shoulders and the expression in his eyes, I knew he felt the weight of what he had done in Ishval to this day. I remembered hearing stories about the Flame Alchemist during the war. Even his own comrades were terrified of him. In some ways, he was more terrifying than the Crimson Alchemist, whose laughter would fill the streets of his destruction. The Flame Alchemist was quieter, more distant, when he killed you. Many of my brethren thought he might not have been human, back during those times.

He drew breath as if to speak, but released it again. Straightening up his back and shoulders, he looked me in the eye; the hardness had returned. "I intend to stand trial for the crimes I committed in this land." No longer did the great general who led the coup against the homunculi sit before me. No, he was replaced by a young State Alchemist, accompanied by an even younger sniper, facing an Ishvallan monk, shame and guilt in the way they held themselves. I admired them, for facing me as they did. They did not run away from what they had done; they didn't mitigate it by considering their contribution to rebuilding the land they had destroyed.

I let out a soft chuckle at the odd situation. Mustang blinked, and Hawkeye looked confused. "If that is your intention, then do not back down, Flame Alchemist. Look your decision in the eye and accept it." Hawkeye's eyes widened at my comment.

"Is that your opinion?" Mustang asked.

"My opinion doesn't matter. You don't carry my guilt, and my life won't change if you go through with this." We understood each other, and smiled. I was familiar with the need to be held responsible for what you had done. I had felt the same thing when I returned to my homeland after living in a world of hatred.

Mustang smirked. "No insisting that I'm foolish? No pleading for me to change my mind? I'm hurt." Hawkeye chuckled and rolled her eyes, and I grinned at the general.

"I won't shed a tear for you, General. Besides, we all know water is your downfall. I would have killed you that rainy day if the Lt. Colonel here hadn't interfered." Laughing, the general and his subordinate stood to leave. "General," They both turned to look at me. I dropped my smile as I said, "Thank you for confiding in me." I nodded my head in respect, and he gave me a sad smile as he left.

I was left wondering at the honor of a man who has achieved so much, yet can't move past the mistakes he's made in his younger years. For all that I had done, I had never been brought up on trial. And here was the Hero of Ishval, given medals for something he was now trying to undo.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Leaving Scar's house, I glanced up at the general. His posture was set in the way I had become too familiar with over the years. A child ran out of a house in front of us, making him stumble a bit. The child looked back over his shoulder and yelled, "Sorry!" but he didn't slow down. The general stopped and watched after the child, who ran far off down the street. His eyes softened as they followed the boy.

Knowing he had a need to make a short speech, I prompted, "Sir?"

"It's a wonderful thing, to see into the future, isn't it, Lt. Colonel?" He was thinking of that month when he was blind, just after the fight with the homunculi. Dr. Marcoh had used the last philosopher's stone from Ishval to restore his sight, and I knew he felt a duty to repay the Ishvallans for that. When we'd been in the hospital for our injuries from that battle, he'd said that the loss of his sight was what the Truth gave to those who had a vision for the future. It was his vision for the future that kept me by his side.

"It is, sir." I answered. He smiled down at me, a smile which I returned. The boy had disappeared around a corner, and the general walked off in the direction of our quarters, with me following close on his heels. We reached the building where we'd set up our headquarters, and Captain Breda was on the radio with Central, trying to convince them to allocate more funding for us. He raised his hand in greeting when we passed through the doorway. In the break room down the hall, we found Havoc and Falman playing checkers. Black Hayate was sleeping in the corner, curled up with his mate, Chise. Havoc had brought the dog back from his time working at his family's store, and the two dogs seemed very well suited for each other. They'd already had one litter of puppies, which had been adopted by Ishvalan families, and they were expecting another.

The general cleared his throat, to which Falman shot up. He hadn't noticed our entrance and couldn't let go of old habits. I looked disdainfully at the general. He knew Falman was a stickler for protocol, even when it wasn't necessary, and Gen. Mustang loved to pull his strings. Havoc just waved his hand, staring at the board.

"Hey, Mustang." Falman shot a look at Havoc, obviously displeased with the lack of respect in Havoc's tone. I rolled my eyes and knelt down in front of the dogs. Hayate lifted his head with a worried look, sensing my concern. Chise didn't move, but I understood that. Bearing puppies was tiresome work. I pet the top of Hayate's head until the worried look went away. Standing back up, I saw the general had pulled up a chair to the table Havoc and Falman were competing over.

I approached their table, standing behind the general. "Care to take on the winner, Hawkeye?" Havoc asked, shooting me a grin. I always beat him whenever we sat down to a game.

I sighed. "Maybe if Lt. Falman wins this one. If you win, I don't think it would be enough of a challenge." Examining the board, I noticed that the game was about even. I hadn't really seen Falman's skills at checkers before, and I was intrigued to notice he was leading Havoc into a trap. He was sneakier than he appeared.

Havoc's face dropped, but he somehow managed to keep the cigarette in his mouth. "You're so cruel!" he yelled, proceeding to fake tears.

"Havoc, you may need to focus on your game rather than the Lt. Colonel." The general leaned forward, watching as Falman began his attack. Havoc's eyes widened, slowly realizing he'd been had. Falman sat back and crossed his arms, obviously pleased with himself. the captain's shoulders slumped as he made the only move he could, watching as the game went to the lieutenant. Falman took Havoc's last piece and smiled.

"Well, you turned out to be quite the strategist, Lt. Falman." The general said, impressed by Falman's win. Falman grinned at him, but that soon faded as Gen. Mustang said, "Now you can face the Lt. Colonel, if you're up to it." Both turned to look at me.

My shoulders slumped. I was the reigning champion of checkers in our squad, and I was tired of people challenging me or volunteering me for a game. However, I hadn't played Falman before. Presumably, he was too afraid of me. As it should be. Havoc got up and offered his seat to me. Falman had begun sweating, but his mouth was set. It would certainly be a change to play Falman. Sitting down in the seat Havoc had vacated, I waited as Falman reset the board. The general leaned back and put his hands behind his head. Havoc went to sit next to Falman on the two-seater.

When the game was ready, General Mustang sat up to watch us, amusement in his eyes. I know he was looking forward to my struggle, but I wouldn't lose tonight. For the first few moves, Falman and I danced around each other, each trying to gauge the other's skills. I knew I could handle him. He may have been able to beat Havoc, but he was too subtle in his attacks. The red pieces piled up next to me. It was only a few minutes in that I realized what Falman was doing. He was going for the queen, and I couldn't stop him anymore. I was too confident, and I had missed that crucial factor. I backed off, trying to cover my tracks. I heard the general snicker, seeing my mistake. Falman was very good, better than any of the others I'd played against since we'd been here, but he had lost too many pieces to win outright, and he knew this, from the way his mouth set into a frown. He couldn't pull off the same strategy he had on Havoc. But it would be difficult for me to pull out a win, as well.

The game continued for an hour, and Havoc had fallen asleep on the couch, mouth wide open with drool dripping onto his sleeve. We'd gone back to dancing around each other, knowing that any more drastic moves would result in losing. Finally, the general stood up. "Just call it a draw, Colonel." He said, stretching his arms. "There's no shame in coming to a draw in checkers." I knew the general preferred chess, and thought of checkers as a child's game, but checkers allowed for more direct strategies, whereas chess was full of deception. I grimaced and sighed. I couldn't give up that easily. If I just moved this piece here-

Falman sat back suddenly, disturbing Havoc's sleep. Sighing, he said, "I concede, Lt. Colonel." I looked up in surprise. He grinned sheepishly at me, and began clearing the board. I straightened my back, which I had been gradually hunching over as I'd gotten more absorbed by the game. "Maybe next time, we'll play it out to the end." The general nudged Havoc, who groaned.

"It's time we went to our bunks." Gen. Mustang said, heading toward the door. "Good night, everyone." I heard him go into the main room, where Breda was still arguing over the radio. I glanced over at Black Hayate and Chise, who'd completely conked out. I smiled at them, looking so peaceful together, something I knew I could never have.

Falman saluted me, bringing me out of my drifting mind. I let out a small sigh and saluted him back. After that little show of respect, Falman pulled Havoc up by the arm, pushing him off to the room the four men under Gen. Mustang shared. I headed out down the hallway to my room. I was one of the few who got their own room, partially because of my rank, and partially because of my sex. Gen. Mustang was waiting for me next to my door, something he wasn't known to do.

"Can I help you, General?" I asked, reaching into my pocket for my keys.

The general didn't say anything for a while, but I didn't push him. He would say it when he was ready to, whatever it was. Sure enough, after a moment, he said, "What I said to Scar tonight, I should have warned you." I was a bit surprised. Surely, he knew me well enough to know that I would not object.

I unlocked my door as I said, "It's fine, sir." I heard him let out a deep breath, and I looked up at him, worriedly.

He was looking far away from this place, through the floorboards, with the smile of a tired man. "We've seen a lot, together, haven't we?" he asked. I didn't say anything, knowing he was just saying something for the sake of connecting with me. He pushed off of the wall, and began walking away, patting my shoulder as he did so. "Sleep well, Lt. Colonel." I watched as he walked away, remembering how he'd changed from the boy poring over alchemy notes on the kitchen table. Opening my door, I smiled. I'd stay with him until the end, whatever that end turned out to be.


	2. Flickering

**Warning: **Angsty Royai ahead.

* * *

**Scar**

It had been just over a month since the conversation with the general. He never mentioned it to me again, proceeding as if nothing was different. I respected him all the more for that. With his example, I threw myself harder into the work in front of me. The lieutenant colonel once commented on it, and I told her that I would not be outdone by an Amestrian.

One afternoon, while we were taking a water break, my master approached me. He was older now, his face sagging slightly. "Scar, your work for our people has been exceptional." He smiled gently at me, with the look of a proud father.

I bowed my head. "Thank you, Master." Of all of the Ishvallans, he was the one who never doubted me, who made sure I was included.

He sat down in front of me and took my hand. "I still consider you my brother, after all that has happened." I was confused by the gesture. He'd said as much to me before, but it seemed like he had a different intention this time. "It pains me to know that you still feel cast out from Ishvala."

Ah. That was his purpose for this talk. I withdrew my hand. "Master, I have done terrible things which I cannot repent for."

"So has the general, but he still sticks to his beliefs." I looked up, surprised that my master mentioned him.

"You know?" I asked.

"I have my suspicions. I also think that you and he are much alike, and that you are trying to punish yourself using the name they gave you." I lowered my eyes, nothing but shame in my heart.

"It is my name, now." I deserved this name. It was a constant reminder of what I had lost during the war, and that it was assigned by those I was trying to murder was all the more appropriate.

"You're wrong, my son. It is a name that you have moved past. It is a name for who you used to be." I wanted that to be true, but my master was mistaken. I never completed my goal to kill the State Alchemists, and therefore, Scar would be my name until I had done so. I had no intention of continuing that goal, but my hands were still half-stained with their blood. I stared down at my fists which were resting on my knees as I sat cross-legged on the mat. I would never forget the lives I had taken.

"You should always remember the journey you have taken, but that does not mean your past should keep you from moving forward." For a moment, I wondered if my master could read minds, but I quickly dismissed the thought. It was just a coincidence, that's all, even if a very well-timed one.

Raising my eyes to meet his, I answered, "I will think about what you have told me. Thank you for your wisdom, Master." I bowed again.

"Goodness, am I being dismissed?" He chuckled, as I heard the call to resume our work. My master rose to his feet. "Let us continue." He held out his hand to help me stand.

I lay awake that night, thinking of the possibilities for my future. I hadn't really thought about it before, my future. I had always focused on what was directly in front of me; I was so accustomed to the possibility of dying the following morning that I never let myself make any plans. But now, … I had a place in this land. Many of my brethren would ask for my assistance, and viewed me with respect because the general respected me.

The general respected me. For all that I had tried to kill him and his subordinates on multiple occasions, he trusted me. I had thought it might have been because of his guilt for what he did to my people, but I knew it wasn't that. He wasn't the sort of man to react to his guilt in that manner. What would he think of this sort of thing?

I had heard of the exiles from our land being accepted back into Ishval through a ceremony, and I had watched several. Perhaps my master meant this sort of thing when he spoke to me. I remembered the faces of those going through with it, how happy they appeared. I remembered how the other Ishvallans had reached out their hands to touch them when it was over and the overwhelming sense of joy. There was too much darkness in me for such joy, now. I rolled over on the bedroll and tried to sleep.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

For some reason, that night I had a great deal of difficulty falling asleep. I couldn't think of anything in particular that was bothering me, just that my mind wouldn't shut off. I had this great urge to go for a run, which I tried to ignore. It wouldn't do to go for a jog around Ishval in the middle of the night.

I rolled onto my other side, trying to focus on my breathing, but my heart rate wouldn't slow. Finally, I sat up. Maybe if I gave in and went for a short run, I'd be able to settle down. I pulled on my pants and boots, and pulled my hair up into a makeshift ponytail. I left the lights off, not wanting to disturb anyone.

I left the room and started down the hallway, when I heard some muffled shouts coming from the other end of the hall. That was General Mustang's room. I unclipped the gun from my belt and ran down toward his door. Pausing just outside, I listened at the door. It was definitely his voice, but I couldn't tell what he was saying. I tried the handle, and found it turned easily in my hand. Pushing the door open, I readied my gun and entered the room. My eyes had adjusted to the light in the hallway, and I couldn't see anything in the darkness of his room. That's when something launched itself at me.

I grit my teeth and balanced my weight, bracing to take the weight of my attacker. I was blind in this light. I only realized when he tackled me that it was the general. Surprised, I lost my balance and we both fell to the floor. Dropping the gun, I landed hard on my butt, causing me to emit a small grunt of discomfort.

"Lieutenant?" His voice" sounded groggy, like he'd just woken up.

"It's Lt. Colonel Hawkeye, sir." I answered, propping myself up on my elbows. He must be disoriented from sleep, to call me by my former rank.

He sat back on his knees and brought his hand to his hair. "Of course, sorry." His eyes seemed unfocused, and he started groping around in the dark. I hadn't seen him like this since …

"Sir, are you all right?" I felt the all too familiar pang of fear in my gut as I watched him moving his hand around the floor, not turning his head.

"I'm fine. I just …" He turned his head to look at me, and his eyes slowly focused as they rested on me. He sighed. "I was remembering the Promised Day."

The knot in my shoulders untangled as I sat up. "Do you need help, sir?"

He didn't answer me for a bit, looking around the room, as if searching for something. "Did I knock you over?"

"It's fine, sir."

"Answer my question, Lt. Colonel." He had that damn tone, again, the one I had to answer to.

"Yes, sir." No point in mincing words. If he was looking for an answer, I'd give it to him.

His shoulders sagged. "Did I hurt you?" He lost all authority in his tone, and I looked at him in surprise. He was staring at me with vulnerability, truly worried that he'd caused me pain. I closed my eyes, sighing, and rose to my feet.

"No, General. I was shocked more than anything." I offered my hand to him, to help him stand. He looked at it and smiled before he took it. I pulled him up, and loosened my grip on his hand, trying to go back into the hallway. But he didn't let go.

I waited a minute, thinking that he might have been a little disoriented. Eventually, he dropped my hand. "Forgive me, Colonel. I had been having a nightmare."

"I figured as much, sir." I waited a moment to see if he had anything more to say. When he kept quiet, I moved toward the door.

"Hawkeye." My name stopped me. Only on very rare occasions did we use each other's proper names at all, and then it was usually with our ranks.

"Yes, sir?" He may have dropped my title, but I was not about to drop his. It was bad enough that I was in his room in the middle of the night.

"Do you ever have ... nightmares about … what happened to you?" So that was what he had been dreaming about. The raised tissue on my neck itched a bit as I thought about it.

"Not particularly, sir. I don't have a very clear memory of that incident. Would you like some tea?" If he was going to talk about this with me, it'd be better if we were in the break room instead of his bedroom.

He nodded and followed me out of the room and into the hall. I let him get in front of me, as usual, and we proceeded to the break room. The other rooms along the way seemed quiet, thank goodness. We didn't need any witnesses for this conversation. I turned the hot water heater on and got out two cups from the cabinet. He sat down at the table. So much for my jog, I thought. But this would probably suffice and ensure that I did fall asleep when I got back to my room, whenever that would be.

I poured the hot water into the cups and pulled out two tea bags from the decaffeinated box. I didn't want to go through the whole process of making tea properly. It was too late at night for that. Setting down a cup in front of the general, I sat down across from him. For a long time, neither of us said anything, sipping and blowing on our teas.

I decided to start the conversation, or we'd never get back to bed. "You were dreaming about your forced human transmutation?" I glanced up at him without moving my head. He set down his cup and stared into it for a while.

"Yes and no. My dreams don't usually get that far." It seemed I'd have to be the one directing this conversation. Around everyone else, he was so … headstrong, but when it was just me, he would sink into himself, letting everything catch up with him. I didn't have that luxury. Someone had to keep him on track and pull him out when he got too deep.

"How do they start?" I prompted.

He looked up at me, the weariness in his eyes making it very hard to keep up the walls I had learned to construct around my mind when we were alone. "I'm fighting Envy, just throwing everything I've got at him. Envy turns into Hughes, but I keep going. Then, he disappears in the hallway, and I can't find him. Then I run into you, and you've got a gun pointed at my head. I ask you to stay there, but you follow me. When I turn around to reprimand you, Envy's there, and he's got you in his … I guess it's his arm. I can't do anything, because I might hurt you. I have to watch as he slams you into the wall." His eyes unfocused, and he was no longer looking at me. "I pull out my gun and shoot at his arm, and he drops you. I keep burning and burning him, and then everything is on fire. When the flames die down, I'm being held by these two men, and you're kneeling in front of me. That man, the doctor, he laughs, and you fall over. You've been injured, but I can't see the person who did it. You're dying and that man is just laughing. That's usually when I wake up."

"Is that what you were dreaming when I woke you up?" I asked.

"You mean, when I attacked you?" I could hear the edges of anger, just enough to taint his smooth voice. I didn't say anything. He didn't see reason when he got so melodramatic. "Yes, I was at that part of the dream. I must have mistaken you for the doctor in my sleep."

"I guess it's a good thing you keep your gloves in a different room, then." I sipped my tea calmly, watching as his eyes widened. He clenched his fist, and it shook as it rested on the table. I admit, I did make that comment to get a rise out of him, but I immediately felt guilty.

"Would you like to hear what really happened before you found me fighting Envy?" I asked. It might get a laugh out of him, and he sorely needed that. I heard him take a quick breath, and I smiled. I set my cup down. "I had followed you, after you told me not to. I had seen that look on your face, and I didn't want you to get carried away. I heard someone coming, so I hid around the corner. When that person reached me, I readied my gun at them. It was you, sir. I kept my gun there, knowing that Envy could imitate anyone, until you lowered your fingers. You asked me to stay close to you, and I knew it wasn't you. I had directly disobeyed your orders, and you didn't seem to care. We had walked about thirty feet when I aimed the gun at your head. You stopped, and asked, 'What's the meaning of this, Lieutenant?' I smiled and said, 'The colonel always calls me 'Riza' when we're alone.'" I was right, the look on the general's face was worth telling this story. His mouth was hanging slightly open and his eyes were popping. Continuing, I said, "Envy changed back into his normal appearance, and said something like, 'Oh, so you two are like that?' When he turned around to face me, I simply said, 'I lied' and pumped him full of lead." General Mustang was grinning at my story.

"That's almost cruel, Colonel." I was glad to see that he'd come out of the darkness in his mind. I picked up my cup and took a sip.

"Obviously, the homunculi had misjudged our relationship, and I was just taking advantage of my enemy's weakness." The general chuckled and took a sip.

He stood up, picking up my empty cup in his other hand. "Well, then, _Riza_, I think we'd better head back to bed." For all that he was using my name jokingly, it still shocked me a bit. He hadn't called me Riza since we met in Ishval during the war. I wasn't going to let him get away with that.

"All right, _Roy_." I saw his back stiffen, and I cursed myself. I had taken it too far, letting sleep deprivation get the better of me. In the entire time we'd known each other, I'd only called him Roy twice before, whereas he'd always called me Riza before I joined the military. He didn't say anything in response and continued washing the cups in the sink. "Good night, sir." I said, exiting the room. The further I got away from the break room, the faster I walked. I never broke into a run, but it was pretty close. I shut my door behind me and slumped down next to the wall. Black Hayate, who'd been sleeping in my room this whole time, walked up to me and put his head on my knee. I picked him up and set him on my lap, grateful for his weight against my suddenly unsettled stomach. I heard footsteps walk toward my door, and I could tell by the shadows from under the door that someone was standing outside. It was probably him, but, childishly, I didn't want to face him. I'd said good night. Our conversation had ended, and I had left. After a moment, the shadows moved away and I heard his footsteps moving down the hallway. I dropped my head into my hands and sighed. I wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Scar's master is very difficult to write. I'm afraid he may sound a bit like King Bradley. Any comments you have would be very helpful!


	3. Tinder

**Author's Note:** Originally, this took place the day after the last chapter. However, considering that would mean that the events in this chapter would overlap with the previous chapter, I changed it to a few days later. There may be some awkward timing issues because of this. Also, the characters seem to be writing their own stories without much say from me, which is both a challenge and a blessing.

* * *

**Scar**

The morning came too quickly, even though I had managed to fall asleep. Sitting up on the mat, I could hear the sound of movement outside. I put on my overclothes and stepped outside the house. People were heading toward the central square, where major announcements were made. I joined the crowd.

"What is this?" I asked the old woman walking next to me. I had seen her face many times before. Her name was Kammani, and she was close to my master.

"General Mustang has an announcement to make. There are rumors the Fuhrer is ill." I looked sharply down at the woman, shocked. In the square, many people were waiting, and I could see Mustang on the platform, with his men behind him. His face did appear more grave than usual. I waited in the crowd, uneasy about this announcement. He usually tells me before something big changes. Miles was up there with him, scanning the crowd. When he found me, he nodded. Whatever the hell that meant.

After a few minutes, Mustang stepped up to the podium. His eyes seemed distant, fairly unusual for a man who took great care in connecting with his audience. Those around me shifted uneasily, no doubt noticing a change, as well.

"Good morning, everyone." he started, his eyes looking out over the crowd without really focusing on anything in particular. "Unlike my previous morning addresses, this one … is not good news." I frowned. I could tell, now, that he had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept well in a while. "Two days ago, Fuhrer Grumman fell ill, and is currently in the hospital. There is no statement as to the cause of this hospitalization, yet, but we will let you know as soon as we know." He hesitated saying the next part, and I narrowed my eyes. I think I knew what was coming. "Because of the tenuous situation in Central Command, the Fuhrer has asked me to return for a few days. In my absence, Captain Heymans Breda will be the top authority here." A good choice, in my opinion. He was the best at logistics, and the best at wrangling in the rest of Mustang's team, except for the Lt. Colonel, who would, no doubt, be accompanying Mustang to Central. "I do not expect this to be a long stay, and the Fuhrer is already recovering from his illness." You didn't have to be a monk to hear the falsehood in that statement. The Fuhrer was very ill, and his chances of recovery were slim. "We appreciate your understanding during this difficult time." With that, Mustang stepped down from the podium and left the stage.

Left standing in the crowd, I could hear the murmurs begin, speculation about the Fuhrer's illness, what might happen once Mustang left, possibilities for the Fuhrer's appointed successor, etc. I couldn't help but wonder what this might mean for Mustang himself. If the Fuhrer really did step down, it was likely he'd appoint Mustang. And then, he'd be that much closer to his goal. I watched him and his squad walk inside headquarters before returning to my tent. Between this and the conversation I'd had a few days ago, life was happening to us whether we were ready or not.

The general and a few of his men left quietly, leaving Captain Breda in charge. Of his closest team, only Lt. Colonel Hawkeye left with him, as his personal assistant. In the days leading up to his departure, he didn't come to my tent to chat like he had before. I imagine the preparations were exhaustive, not to mention the emotional strain from the close relationship he had with the Fuhrer.

The Fuhrer. He was a very difficult man to understand, but in general, he seemed to care about his subjects more than any previous leader, and seemed to share many of Mustang's ideologies. If he stepped down, there were two possibilities for the next Fuhrer: Lieutenant General Armstrong and General Mustang. Either way that this dilemma played out wouldn't have a great deal of impact on my life. However, I was surprised to realize that I did care about who became the next Fuhrer. Both of them would continue the reconstruction of Ishval and the restoration of our culture. However, if Armstrong was appointed, Mustang would continue to work in Ishval. Armstrong would most likely uphold the military state, but I had no particular quarrel with how she would handle this. I don't know what that would mean for the progress Grumman has made on the parliament.

Mustang, on the other hand, would destroy the military state and create a democracy. This is not my main stake in this, though. My biggest concern if Mustang becomes the Fuhrer is who will work in Ishval after he leaves. Ishval means more to Mustang than most of the other military officers, as far as I understand it. Of the others, he has more leadership experience. The people here have grown to respect him. His team will most likely follow him back to Central, and they are just as integral to running things as he is. Leaving them behind while he visits Grumman is proof that he understands that.

For all that I do not seek the company of others, I wished to hear Mustang's thoughts on all of this. We'd talked about ideals, the future of the country, plans for Ishval, etc., but we'd never spoken of it from a practical perspective. I was sitting in my home, eyes closed, when my master entered.

"Good evening, Scar." he said, smiling from the doorway. I gestured for him to enter.

"Good evening." He sat across from me, still smiling.

"That was a very interesting announcement this morning." So he wanted to talk about it. I didn't understand why he sought me out, rather than one of the council members.

"Yes."

"The Fuhrer has seen much in his time. The country will miss him when he steps down." I said nothing. His words were true, but I did not understand his point. "Change tends to come all at once, doesn't it?"

"I don't understand."

"It seems that when one element in life changes, others react, even those that seem unattached."

"Is this about our conversation a few days ago?" In all of the commotion about the Fuhrer, I had not forgotten that he had suggested I rejoin my brother Ishvallans.

My master's smile relaxed. "Yes. Have you given it any thought?"

Why now? "I am honored that you think I am ready to come back, but I don't think it would be right."

"Because of the people you killed?"

In a way, I suppose it was about them, but I had come to terms with their deaths. "I did not finish what I set out to do with the name Scar. Until I have done that, I cannot cast that name aside."

My master chuckled, surprising me. "I did not realize you intend to finish that particular job." At that point, a young man lifted the curtain to my home.

"Scar, we need your help in the northern sector." Rick stood in the doorway, his smile firmly in place, as it always was. My master and I stood up as Rick waited for me. Whatever it was, it seemed like Rick wasn't going to wait.

"I hope you think about what I have told you." My master patted Rick on the shoulder as he left. I certainly would.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Thinking back over the events of recent days, it seemed as if our lives were picking up speed. We were rushing toward something, and I was afraid of where we'd end up. In the train car, both of us were silent. Part of me wished that we'd brought one of the others with us, so we wouldn't be so lost. Havoc had really pushed to accompany us, but the general would have none of it. Havoc was needed in Ishval. I was surprised when he refused the general's request to take his place as commanding officer for the time we'd be gone. He suggested Breda instead, pointing out Breda's hardworking nature and determination.

It seems a little strange, but after the Promised Day, Ishval is where we learned to become ourselves again. We had to get back to work and remember what it was like before the plots and betrayals. Recovering in Central was more like a dream than anything else. There were ceremonies and parties and dinners and just being happy we all came out of it alive. We were still in that strange, uplifted mood when we left for Ishval. Being back there again, for a reason such as this, will only reinforce its surreality.

Fuhrer Grumman's illness shocked me more than I had thought it would. When I'd learned of our relation, I hadn't thought anything of it. He'd cut off my mother, and that meant he wasn't family. I held no resentment toward him for this. But when I heard that he was ill, I felt unexpectedly concerned for the aging fuhrer. It must have shown, because Mustang gave me a look that was a mixture of surprise, concern, and understanding. We had learned of it just after we'd arrived in his office for the day. Fuery came in, out of breath, explaining to us that Grumman was in the hospital. Nothing was certain at that time, but it appeared to have been a heart attack. Mustang stood up quickly, shocking both the lieutenant and me. He'd demanded details, but Fuery didn't have any at the time. The general showed signs that he was going to start a full interrogation of Fuery, so I quickly thanked and dismissed him. He seemed relieved as he ducked out of the room.

I did the best I could to calm Mustang down, but he wasn't able to focus for the rest of the day. Sometimes, I wished he didn't get so attached to the people around him. But then, he wouldn't be the general I had come to respect. I snapped out of my memory back into the train car as Mustang's elbow slipped off the window ledge and he jumped.

"Are you all right, sir?"

He grinned. "Yeah. I just dozed off. I haven't slept much in the past few days." His embarassed grin faded into a faint smile as he stared out the window. I knew he wanted to say something else, so I waited. "Hawkeye, ..." he stopped, his smile fading completely.

"Sir?" He didn't respond. There were so many thoughts swirling around in his head, it was almost as if I could hear every one of them. I suppose we had been together long enough.

"What do you suppose will happen next?" We'd been hearing soldiers talking about the possible outcomes for this situation, but we'd always ignored them. He'd always brushed them off.

I sat in silence for a while, staring at my hands. I had already formulated a decent idea of what would happen once we arrived in Central, but I knew Mustang wouldn't like it. "Fuhrer Grumman will want to discuss succession."

The general clenched his fist and frowned. "And how do you think that'll go?"

It wasn't like him to put all these questions to me. He was more the spontaneous speech man than anything. "There are two options for succession: Lt. General Armstrong and you."

His frown deepened and there was irritation in his voice as he spoke. "I know that. I'm not asking for facts. I want to know how you think it'll go."

His tone annoyed me. "There's no point in worrying about that, sir. What will happen will happen."

His head snapped around to glare at me. "Dammit, Hawkeye!" His tone and body language may have been angry, but his eyes were filled with fear. All of my irritation toward him dissipated, leaving nothing in its wake but concern. His face crumpled as he bowed his head. I wanted to take his hand and reassure him that everthing would be all right, but that wouldn't be appropriate, so I just lowered my eyes. He really was too soft, sometimes.

* * *

Angsty Mustang is very fun to write. I would like to know how other people view Grumman and Riza's relationship, as that will be a part of the next chapter, and there isn't much out there in terms of the canon.

The next chapter won't be out as quick. I had these written previously, and now it's caught up with where I am. That, and suddenly angsty royai scenes are writing themselves without input from me, so the next chapter may be a bit longer. Riza just won't let me leave Roy alone.

Reviews are always appreciated!


	4. Smoke

**Author's Note:** Thanks to LittleAlchemist, Cap'nHoozits, and forgottencharacter for the lovely reviews!

This chapter is quite a bit longer than the previous ones and includes two OC's (because I needed people to populate Ishval). To avoid confusion, I'm going to start each new section with who's telling that part.

* * *

**Scar**

"And I'm telling you, we don't have the resources for that yet!" Captain Breda was arguing with Osman, the Ishvallan in charge of the residential sector furthest south. He'd never been a patient man, and he was among those still convinced that Amestris was only rebuilding Ishval to keep them out of their cities. General Mustang had difficulty with him, but usually managed to calm him down after a few minutes.

Breda wasn't doing as well. He and Osman were really going at it, and other people in the area had stopped to watch. I had been picking up some supplies for the work on the temple when I heard them. Mustang had been gone one day, and already, we'd hit a snag.

I was somewhat concerned that their little argument could escalate, but I knew that Osman was smarter than that. Hopefully. Some of the other Amestrian soldiers also looked worried, looking around to see what everyone else was doing. Most of them hadn't been in combat before, but they had been raised on stories of Ishvallan terrorists. While these stories have been disproved over and over again, it's hard to let go of your childhood beliefs. I was grateful to Breda. He hadn't raised his voice to Osman once, despite his tone becoming more and more annoyed.

I took my time gathering the tools we needed for the temple, keeping my ears trained on them. Finally, Osman left and the soldiers relaxed. Looking over at Breda, he seemed very tired. Of all of Mustang's men, he was the most stubborn, and sometimes the most thick-headed, but he was also the most honest. Some of us had trouble with him, but we could trust him. I picked up the tools and left, satisfied that the conflict had passed.

Back at the temple, the monks were working on rebuilding the roof. We'd completed the walls of the building and cleared the rubble, and finishing the roof would be the second major milestone for the temple plans. I placed the tools down next to the rest of the supplies and scaled the scaffolding to tell the others I had returned. The monk in charge of the temple smiled and nodded at me. Cemal was covered in dust, having manuevered himself directly below the area he was working on. I sighed inwardly. His work may be reliable, but he was not the most experienced of the workers.

I set back to work on my section of the roof, and continued for a few hours. The other monks called back and forth to each other, and sometimes, they'd even call to me. They were either ten years older or five years younger than me, for the most part - those too old or too young to have fought in the war. Those who were my age during the war were mostly dead. They'd taken up arms against the Amestrians and protected their families. The only reason I survived was my brother's sacrifice.

I focused harder on the work in front of me to drown out those thoughts. This was a time for looking to the future, not dwelling on the past. As the monks continued their banter, my mind wandered to what my master had said. Perhaps I could rejoin them. Maybe not as a monk, but as an Ishvallan. They didn't seem to mind the tattoos on my arms, and very few of them avoided me. After Miles left last year to return to Briggs, I became the one many Ishvallans approached with their problems.

But then I remembered that I had murdered those state alchemists, and I had performed alchemy. I had betrayed Ishvala and I could not come back.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

We'd arrived late in the evening the night before, too late for visiting hours. Besides, after the general's emotional, as well as physical, train ride, he needed rest. We stayed in the dorms in Central Command, which hadn't changed much since we'd last been there. We'd been assigned neighboring rooms, and the other soldiers that accompanied us were on the floor above us. After a brief meeting in the general's common room, we all left for our own beds. I was the last to leave the room, and I stopped before I reached the door. I closed it quickly and turned around to face a surprised Mustang.

"Are you all right, sir?" I asked. He hadn't shown any particular emotion, other than irritated, since we'd stepped off the train. I knew he hadn't slept properly since we'd heard about the Fuhrer.

He sighed. "Colonel, you should go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow."

I would not be moved. "I am aware of that, sir. However, I am not leaving until I have been assured of your well-being." He was obviously emotionally wasted, which was not a good place for him to be. When he got like this, he usually drank. Given that we had a long day the next day, and that he knew I'd be right next door, he'd most likely drink alone in his room. That almost always ended badly for him.

He frowned at me, his shoulders drooping with fatigue. "I'm fine."

Bullshit. "I don't believe you, sir."

His frown turned into an all-out glare, but it didn't faze me. He knew it was useless to try that on me. "You are the most frustrating person I've ever met." he growled, slumping down into one of the sofas.

"Thank you, sir." He smiled at that.

"I won't drink, Hawkeye. I promise," he said, without looking at me. Even so, I believed him. He used my name, after all.

"Good. Will you sleep?" He'd conceded some ground to me, and I was going for the whole win.

His eyes met mine, and he bared his emotions. The sudden change threw my head into a spin, but I didn't budge. "I doubt it. I have a lot to think about." His eyes unfocused as he looked back down, lost in his thoughts.

I couldn't do anything about that. For the second time that day, I wanted to give him physical comfort, and for the second time, I didn't. It was amazing. We'd been back in Central for an hour, and we were already going through all of this again. The work we had in Ishval really took our minds off of it, but back in this familiar place, all of what had happened in these halls came back to haunt us. My stance softened. He was no doubt feeling very similar, and no one could fault him for being overwhelmed.

"Well, then. Good night, sir." He looked up when I spoke, and I gave him a soft smile. The look on his face made me glad I gave him a bit of slack. I heard him take a breath as if to say something when I turned to the door. That certainly brought back memories. I left the room with a slight smile on my face.

In the morning, I could tell he barely slept at all. He had that permanent, determined frown on his face, and his eyes were bright with intention, but the rings under his eyes suggested that his thoughts the night before hadn't allowed him to rest. I was grateful to the other soldiers for ignoring this over breakfast. They seemed happy to be in Central. Most of them were new to the army, having joined after the Promised Day and immediately dispatched to Ishval, and hadn't spent much time in the capitol city.

At 9, the general and I headed to the hospital. The other soldiers stayed behind; they would only clog up the hallways in the hospital, and goodness knows there would be enough traffic as it was. In the car, neither of us said anything, focused on the events later that day. Central Command would convene tomorrow, giving time for everyone to arrive. Brigadier General Douglas was already in Central, and Lt. General Armstrong would be arriving today with Colonel Miles. After visiting with the Fuhrer this morning, we'd meet with Major Armstrong to set up the security for the meeting tomorrow. Knowing the Lt. General, she'd likely want to meet with Gen. Mustang this evening.

For all that we'd been preparing for this since the war, it was surprisingly stressful. All of the possible hiccups to our plan kept running through my head, and I had to remind myself that there was nothing I could do about them. We'd gotten this far, mostly through luck, and now, we'd have to face what happened as it happened.

The car stopped in front of the main entrance, where Major Armstrong was waiting for us. As we got out, people stopped to look at us and whisper. After all, the general hadn't been in Central in a while, and it was widely known that he was one of the candidates for Fuhrer. I glanced around the area, not terribly fond of the attention we were attracting. The general ignored the crowd and approached Armstrong.

"Long time, no see, Major." The major's eyes were red, as if he had been crying. He was known for his emotional outbursts, so spending time in a hospital no doubt fed his need to express himself.

Armstrong clicked his heels together and saluted. "Indeed, General. It is lovely to see you again, although the circumstances are regrettable."

"At ease." Armstrong dropped his salute. More people had gathered around, hoping to get a look at the man who'd saved the country a few years ago.

"Perhaps we could take this inside, Major." I said quietly. Armstrong nodded and led us into the building. Inside, many soldiers were walking around, some for security, others trying to get any news that they could about Grumman's conditions. As they noticed us walking through the halls, they'd snap to attention, a gesture that I'm sure the general appreciated. He needed every bit of strength he could manage today. We passed through the doors to the VIP wing, and arrived at the Fuhrer's room.

Seeing authority figures in hospital beds is never easy. In all the time I spent at Eastern Command, he never looked particularly youthful, but this was something else entirely. His skin was pale, his arms mostly bare in the hospital gown. His smile seemed more fake and his eyes seemed tired. His hair was brushed, but slightly mussed from lying on a pillow all day.

Mustang's actions were stiff as he greeted his commanding officer. Standing at attention near the wall, I could observe both Grumman and Mustang's. Nothing escaped me, not even when Grumman pinched his leg underneath the blankets. I can't imagine it was comfortable to lay in bed like that for several days.

As for his condition, Grumman explained that the heart attack happened at work, which was convenient, considering the proximity of his office to the hospital. He'd been treated almost immediately, so there was little danger of long-lasting impairments. He seemed annoyed with one of his doctors, who was convinced he needed to stay in the hospital for two weeks. I pitied anyone who had to deal with him as a patient.

After all the basics had been covered, Grumman leaned over to Mustang. "How are you feeling about the meeting tomorrow?" He had that smile on his face, the one that made you think he was so much more than how he presented himself. That smile scared the hell out of me.

Mustang didn't seem as fazed. "As someone tried to tell me yesterday, what will happen will happen."

"Oh-ho." Grumman snickered, leaning back. "That's very wise of you, Mustang. I assume it was you who said this, Lt. Colonel?" He maneuvered his head so that he looked directly at me.

I brought my hand up in salute. "Yes, sir."

He chuckled again. "No need to be so formal." Looking back at Mustang, he said, "Would you mind giving me a minute with your subordinate?"

I was shocked, as was the general. I'd never spoken to Grumman without someone else there, and never in any significant situation. I begged Mustang to stay in my head, hoping he could tell I didn't want to be alone with the Fuhrer. Mustang turned to look at me, trying to read my eyes. He smiled and turned back to Grumman. "Of course." He and Armstrong left me in there, alone with the most powerful man in Amestris.

Grumman smiled gently at me, but all the gentle smiles in the world would not make me feel kinship for this man. "Come sit." He gestured to the chair the general had just vacated.

Moving robotically, I sat down rigidly in the chair next to his bed. "What is it that you want to discuss with me, sir?"

"You can stop with the 'sir' business. I'm not talking to you as the Fuhrer to a soldier." I frowned. If he was hoping to establish some sort of family connection with me, I wasn't interested. Apparently, he picked up on this. "You know, you have your father's glare. I used to get that look all the time when they were first together."

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" My tone was harsher than I wanted it to be, but it got my point across fairly clearly.

"No, no." He waved his hand, as if he could dispel the tension in the air with that. "I wanted to talk to you about Mustang."

Of course. Central Command could talk all day about who should be the next Fuhrer, but when it came down to it, the Fuhrer was the one who had to decide. "What is it you would like to know, sir?"

"Again with the 'sir'! Really, Riza. May I call you Riza? I called your father Hawkeye, and it doesn't seem ... right." I had heard him speak like this to others, but he usually never said more than two words to me. He'd never addressed me by name or rank previously. I didn't particularly want him to call me by my first name, but I didn't want him to refer to me like he did my father, either.

"Riza's fine." I hated giving him ground, but he had cornered me. This was why I didn't like him; he didn't give you an out.

"Good, good. Now, then! About Mustang, what kind of man is he? In Ishval, I mean." Grumman's eyes had a mischievous light in them, as if he had ulterior motives for his questions.

But what a question. It made something inside of me twist uncomfortably, although I couldn't figure out why. "He's fair, to both the soldiers and the Ishvallans. Everyone trusts him, and he takes time to get to know the people around him."

Grumman nodded. "Sounds like him. What else?"

What else? What more did he want from me? "Well, he makes himself accessible to everyone, not just the higher ranking soldiers or civilian leaders." I paused, waiting to see if he wanted me to continue. He had that manipulative smirk again, and I was starting to get irritated. "What else do you want to know, sir?"

Grumman frowned at my 'sir.' It was habit, and I wasn't going to let him treat me any way he wanted. "You're telling me what he does. I want to know who he is."

That thing inside me twisted again. "He's kind, brave, strong, focused, charismatic, ..." My voice trailed off as I tried to think of what else to say. I was lost in thought for about a minute.

Grumman cleared his throat, bringing me back down to earth. He looked me directly in the eyes, trapping me there, and asked, "Who is he to you?"

I froze for a moment. I knew there had been rumors about Mustang and me, but they had only ever been rumors, sparked because I was a woman in the military. "Are you suggesting something, sir?"

"Just testing you." He relaxed his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. "I'm planning on choosing him as my successor."

That was it. He just said it. And I had thought this conversation couldn't throw me off balance any more than it already had. My mouth dropped open. Grumman opened one eye to look at me and smiled.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Mustang about this conversation. Well, at least not that last bit. You're dismissed, Lt. Colonel."

* * *

**Scar**

I was heading back to my house when I heard shouting coming from the direction of the barracks. I hoped it was no more than a few Amestris soldiers quarrelling over latrine duty. Concerned that it was something more, I increased my pace and changed directions. As I got closer, I could hear Osman's voice again.

"You're hoarding the supplies, aren't you? Keeping all of the good stuff for yourselves so that you can keep us living in these awful conditions!" I gritted my teeth. This was not good.

"Of course not! Look, I've shown you the records of all the stuff we got from Central. It's right there in front of you!" That was Breda's voice. Perfect.

"Like you Amestrians have never lied to us before!" I heard some of the other soldiers gasp.

I rounded the last corner to see Osman pointing a gun at Breda, whose hands were up. Osman's eyes were large with anger. He glanced over at me as I approached.

"Here comes Scar, come to stop me from killing your sorry asses." I knew Osman didn't like me very much, viewing me as a traitor for working with the Amestrians. He'd called me a spy on multiple occasions.

I said nothing, stopping about ten feet from either of them. The other soldiers were getting more and more agitated, some reaching for their guns. This could escalate very quickly.

"Do you see that?" Osman was addressing me. "See how they're itching for a reason to shoot me?"

Breda answered, "Well, you are pointing a gun at me."

Osman tensed his arm and yelled, "Shut it!" Breda raised his eyebrows and stopped talking. Osman needed someone to talk him down, and I wasn't the best person for the job. I couldn't see any other Ishvallans around, let alone anyone he'd listen to, so I sighed.

"Osman, do you know what will happen if you pull the trigger?" Not taking his eyes off Breda, he set his mouth and lowered his eyebrows. "If you shoot Breda, the other soldiers here will panic, and they will shoot you. Breda's death will convince the rest of Amestris that we're volatile, and your death will convince the other Ishvallans that Amestrians can't be trusted. You'll start another war, and our people will not survive." Breda's eyes flicked over to me, and he lowered his arms. Osman didn't move, but his eyes seemed to cloud over. He knew I was right, and he knew he couldn't shoot.

"You're the same as them, you know that?" His arms suddenly relaxed and he lowed the gun. "You'll never be accepted here." He walked off, tucking the gun into the fabric tied around his waist.

Breda came over to me and offered his hand. "Thanks for that." I shook his hand briefly, then turned to leave.

"He's wrong, though." I turned my head slightly in the direction of Breda's voice. "The other Ishvallans respect you a lot." Saying nothing, I went to my house for the night. Breda didn't know what he was talking about; Osman was right.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Standing outside the door to the hospital conference room, I watched as the highest ranking military officials entered. There weren't many left, and they even included a colonel. Lt. General Armstrong and Colonel Miles were the first to arrive, as intimidating as ever. She stopped for a moment to greet her brother, who was standing with me. To me, she nodded, saying "I see Mustang brought his dog along." I saluted her, and she let out a short laugh. She and Miles filed in, the colonel giving me a slight nod. We'd worked closely together in Ishval, and it was nice to see him again.

Next was Brigadier General Henry Douglas, the only one invited to the meeting today who wasn't somehow involved in the coup. During that time, he had no knowledge of the homunculi or their plans. He did fight against us on the Promised Day, but we were trying to overthrow the Fuhrer. He nodded at both of us as he entered.

General Mustang came next and stopped to chat with us. "Good morning, Major."

Armstrong and I both saluted him. "Good morning, General Mustang." Armstrong answered. Mustang had his confident smile on, but I knew he hadn't slept well the night before, and he was very anxious about this meeting. Gen. Armstrong's visit the night before hadn't helped matters.

"Lt. Colonel, I'm leaving my back to you." Letting some of his true emotions through, he gave me a goofy, weak smile.

Smiling back at him, "Of course, sir." He took a deep breath and entered. I was glad that he'd finally let go of the worst of his anxiety. Perhaps my words on the train had finally gotten through, like he'd told the Fuhrer yesterday.

Speaking of, Grumman rolled up in a wheelchair, pushed by a decently attractive nurse, who seemed flattered. I pursed my lips. I knew Grumman was the one who taught Mustang about flirting, but it was still a bit disconcerting. "Good morning, Armstrong, Riza." Grumman smiled up at us, like he'd rather be here than anywhere else.

Armstrong and I saluted him, chorusing, "Sir." Grumman chuckled slightly, and waved off the nurse.

"Thank you, Beth, I've got it from here." He stood up, stiffly, and Beth moved to assist him. He waved her off, and got all the way up by himself. I almost felt bad for her, watching her bite her lip in concern. Armstrong held open the door for the Fuhrer, who walked inside as if nothing had happened.

Beth waited outside with us, standing awkwardly next to me, behind the wheel chair. At times, we could hear some voices, but we could never tell what was being said. I didn't have any interest in listening in. The general would tell me when they finished. I thought about the qualifications of the two Fuhrer candidates. Armstrong was a very decisive leader, and had proven her merit over and over again. She was harsh, but that was necessary for her post in Briggs. She was certainly more militaristic than Mustang, but instilled the same loyalty in her subordinates as Mustang did in his. The main difference between them was their intentions for Amestris. I honestly didn't know much about what Armstrong wanted for the country. Given her temperament, she probably favored the stratocracy, but I doubt she would reverse the work that Grumman had been doing.

My thoughts turned to Ishval. Ishval was extremely important to Mustang, who'd given all of himself to its reconstruction. He'd set up a trade route to Xing that passed through the main part of Ishval, to boost Ishval's economy. He took his promise to Dr. Marcoh very seriously, and remembers the souls of the Ishvallans who gave him back his eyesight, and gave Havoc back his legs. Ishval was not ready for the military to withdraw. It was more than that, though. Mustang was loved and respected in Ishval. It had taken a while, but now, he was one of the most respected people in Ishval, including the Ishvallan leaders. I didn't think he wanted to leave them in the hands of someone else.

Two hours passed, and the officers exited the room. Beth carted Grumman off in the wheelchair, leaving the general and I standing in the hallway. I said nothing as we walked down the hallway, taking up my position two steps behind him. His face revealed nothing, but I did notice his hair was slightly ruffled around the base of his hairline. I had to remind myself not to reach up and fix it.

The car was waiting for us out front. We slipped in, heading back to the dorms. That's when Mustang's shoulders slumped and he let out a big sigh.

"Sir?"

He looked up at me, a tired smile on his face. "Nothing's been officially decided."

* * *

That's that! There are several various headcanons that are referenced in this chapter, so if you have any questions, please send me a message. All advice/comments are appreciated!

The next chapter will focus on a different topic and someone other than Mustang. It involves considerable research, but that's what the weekend's for, right?


	5. Bonfire

**Author's Note:** A lot of research went into this chapter. The ceremony you see described below is loosely based on the Lakota Native American _Hunka_ Ceremony, with elements of Wiccan initiation thrown in. This chapter is entirely different from any other part of this story, and it reads/feels as much. There's a lot less dialogue because I had to cover a lot in a short period of time.

* * *

**Scar**

Nothing really changed after Mustang came back from Central. He announced that the Fuhrer was recovering well and would resume his duties soon. He said nothing about the decision of Grumman's successor, but when I asked, he responded that Grumman hadn't made a decision. Typical of the old man.

Osman's words affected me more than I had imagined. I had no previous assumption that the other Ishvallans thought well of me, but I did think that I was at least a part of the community. Some of the Amestrians were well-liked by the Ishvallans, and I had hoped I was respected as much as they were. How times had changed, comparing myself to military dogs.

As we continued to work on the temple, I talked to the monks less and less. I didn't want them to view me as trying to push my way back into their ranks. During lunch break one day, Cemal approached me.

"Something on your mind?" He sat down next to me on the temple floor, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

Cemal and I had never been particularly close, even before the war. We had worked in the same temple, but he'd been closer to my brother. "Just thinking about the reconstruction." I answered, bowing my head to Ishvalla before picking up my wrap.

Cemal nodded. "That is a pretty big issue around here." I couldn't tell if he was being serious, with his light tone. "I heard about what Osman said to you last week."

Of course he did. Cemal and Breda were pretty good friends, and they were widely known to be gossips. I didn't respond, continuing to eat my wrap.

"He's not right, you know. I can't speak for everyone, but the monks around here really respect you. They enjoy your company when we're working." He looked at me from his peripherals, trying to see my reaction. I didn't give him one. "Have you thought about rejoining us?"

That certainly got my attention. Had he been talking to my master? Considering it was Cemal, probably. "Someone mentioned it to me."

He smiled at me. "What do you think about it?"

I struggled to give him an answer. Some of the Ishvallans knew what I'd done, but most didn't. Even those who knew didn't know all the details. "I don't think it would be appropriate for me, considering my past."

Cemal guffawed. "This isn't about the past, now, is it? It's about the future, what you want to do, and who you want to be. You can't let what happened in the past keep you from moving forward. I mean, look at the Amestrians. Some of them fought in the Ishvallan war, and here they are, rebuilding what they destroyed in the first place. And we respect them! If we can accept them into our community, we can certainly accept you, who's integral to the reconstruction, back into our family." Cemal's impassioned speech shook me. He was right, of course. I thought about Mustang and his goals for the future. He may have been thinking about the past, but he was looking to the future, and how to improve it for others.

I didn't answer Cemal, finishing up the last of my lunch. A few of the other monks joined us, chatting about nothing in particular until the lunch break ended. They didn't seem to think of me as different from them. Perhaps it was time I rejoined my family.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

When we arrived back in Ishval, Breda explained his confrontation with Osman. The general had dealt with Osman many times before, but he'd never threatened violence. Breda told us about Scar's intervention. We truly were indebted to him for all that he's done for Ishval.

Mustang continued his nightly visits to Scar's house after we returned. It was during one of these that Scar revealed his intention to rejoin the Ishvallans through a ceremony called _Skari_. The ceremony is about family ties, and has been altered to accept the Ishvallan outcasts back into their clan. Apparently, we don't have the words to describe this accurately in Xerxian. Scar explained that he needed someone to sponsor him, which meant someone who could speak on his behalf during the ceremony. The look on Mustang's face when Scar asked him to be his sponsor was unforgettable. I had come to the conclusion that Scar would ask Mustang to be involved when he started explaining the ceremony, and it didn't surprise me. Scar admired Mustang greatly. He'd admired him even when he wanted to kill him. But the general had no idea it was coming, and he didn't know how to react. Scar bowed his head to him as he explained what Mustang's participation in the ceremony would entail.

As we sat in the house that night, I watched two great men realize the brotherhood that they shared. They really were two sides of the same coin. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy and reverent as they talked about the ceremony, and when we left, the general was in a daze. He said nothing as we walked back to headquarters and went straight to his room when we arrived. I checked on the dogs before I retired, slightly subdued myself.

The next evening, the general and I visited Scar's master, Elyakim, as part of the ceremony, bringing food as an example of Scar's desire to become family. I waited outside while Mustang explained to him Scar's intentions. Mustang had to be the one to ask for the ceremony rather than Scar, because if Scar asked, it would seem too forward and arrogant. After about half an hour, Scar's master invited me in to share the meal, which indicated that the first part of the ceremony had been completed. He explained to me that the ceremony would take place over the next week, in stages. The general was required to spread the word of the third and final day of the Skari, which was the ritual in which all Ishvallans are encouraged to participate. Scar's master would begin preparations for the ceremony, and it would commence in two days. The final day would fall on the Ishvallan sabbath, which was already designated as a day of rest for the workers.

To be honest, I didn't understand much of the ceremony. I was honored that Elyakim was explaining it to us, but many of the actions he described seemed redundant to me. The general took everything he said very seriously, listening to every word with the same dedicated expression as when he was learning alchemy.

The conversation continued for a long time, and I was getting tired. We'd have to leave soon. Scar's master was explaining the meaning of the sashes the Ishvallans wore when he turned to me. "Lt. Colonel, can you weave?"

I was taken aback. "No, I don't know how." Why did he ask me that?

"That's a shame. It is tradition that a woman close to the one receiving the sash makes it for them. If Mustang is to be his_ Mosehri_, then it would be preferable for you, as a woman close to him, to make the sash. But that's all right." He smiled at me. "I can ask Kammani." Kammani had lost her whole family during the war, and as such, she adopted all of the Ishvallans as her relatives. She'd probably made sashes like this for many other people.

A while later, we left Elyakim in the same silence as we had left Scar the night before. The general changed almost instantly from reverent to frazzled.

"This whole _Mosehri_ thing is a lot of work." he said, lifting his hand to his hair. "I've already got my average load of paperwork to do, and now I have to make these invitation wand things and distribute them."

"Breda, Havoc, and I can handle the paperwork, sir." I answered calmly. I knew he wasn't complaining about having to make the wands. He was stressed and needed an outlet. As usual, that outlet was ranting to me. "It's not like you haven't pushed your work onto us before."

His shoulders slumped and he grimaced sarcastically at me. "Thanks for your words of comfort, Colonel."

"Anytime, sir." But he did seem less worried for the rest of the night. After explaining the situation to Breda, the captain dug up books on Ishvallan culture that we'd studied when we first arrived. The general went to his office, books in hand. It was going to be a long few days for him.

* * *

**Scar**

Mustang came to me two days after he agreed to be my _Mosehri_. He showed me an invitation wand he had made, asking if it looked right. He'd chosen the right materials, but the engraving was a bit sloppy. Considering it was in Ishvallan, and he'd probably never written in the language before, it wasn't all that terrible. He seemed relieved when I nodded, and rushed off.

Later, I saw Mustang at the temple, passing out more of those wands to the other workers. Most of their faces lit up as he explained what they were for. None of them said anything to me about it, but Cemal clapped my shoulder and grinned at the end of the day. Walking home, many people smiled at me. It was certainly a pleasant feeling.

Kammani was waiting outside my house, and waved to me as I approached. "Good evening, Scar." she called.

I bowed my head to her before answering. "Good evening."

"I'd like to share a meal with you." She picked up a basket that had been sitting behind her, pulling back the cloth on top to show various dishes. I held open the curtain so that she could enter my house.

She spread the food on the table, and I was amazed. She had made us a feast, for sure. There was sausage, _aveluk_, yogurt,_ spanakh_, and bread. I hadn't seen food like this in a while. It was usually only served in the same meal for communal feasts.

"I hope you enjoy it." she said, smiling at me. I thanked her and then gave the appropriate thanks to Ishvala. During the meal, she asked me many questions about the temple, which I struggled to answer. She was very knowledgeable about architecture whereas I, for the most part, did as I was directed. The meal ended, and I began cleaning the dishes. She moved to help me.

"Elyakim_-malim_ asked me to make your sash." Her face did not change as she said this, but I looked to her in surprise. I had no surviving family, so there was no one that I could ask, but I barely knew Kammani. I'd seen her make sashes for others, particularly the younger ones whose parents had died, but I never thought she would make mine.

"I wanted to know more about you before I made the sash, so that I could make it yours." We finished the dishes and sat on the mats.

"What would you like to know?" I asked.

Her eyes softened and she smiled sweetly. "Many things. Why did you cast off your name?"

I lowered my eyes. "There was so much hatred in my heart after the war. I cast off my name because I intended to break the laws of Ishvala."

She nodded. "Many of us felt anger over what happened to our land. Many still feel anger. How did you break Ishvala's laws?"

I was reluctant to talk about it. But it was important for her to understand these things if she was making my sash. "I intended to murder those responsible for the destruction of Ishval."

"Did you succeed?"

The word 'succeed' threw me off. Thinking about it, I suppose I had, in a way. "Yes, but in a way I had not anticipated." After all, I was the one who delivered the fatal blow to King Bradley, who'd issued the order.

"How did the outcome differ from what you anticipated?" Kammani's face was unreadable. Her eyes still had that softness, despite my having confessed murder.

"My understanding of the war changed, and I became concerned with another problem. In solving that problem, I no longer desired to murder state alchemists." I tried to keep this as vague as I could. Not many people knew what actually happened, and while I trusted Kammani, it was not important for this discussion.

"Why Mustang?" she asked. I'm sure it was on the minds of many Ishvallans.

"I respect him and what he's doing. We are very similar, and I feel he understands me better than most of the Ishvallans."

Kammani smiled. "And what do you intend to do once you rejoin us? Will you become a monk again?"

"No." It was one thing to rejoin my family, but another thing entirely to gain status as a brother. "I have broken Ishvala's laws, and I cannot take up that sash. As for what I will do, I don't know yet."

Kammani's smile deepened knowingly. "Devote some time to meditate on that. And don't rule anything out." She stood up. "I have learned all that I need to know, and now it is time for me to start making the sash."

I stood up with her. "Thank you for the meal."

"Thank you for our conversation." I bowed to her as she left.

What did I want to do with my life? Before the war, I had been a monk. After the war, I was a murderer. And now, ... what was I? The reconstruction would likely take the rest of my lifetime, so I could devote myself to the physical side of that. But was that what I wanted my role to be? We had many skilled laborers who were more competent than me. For now, everyone worked, but what would happen when that started to slow down?

Mustang didn't visit that night, probably busy preparing for the ceremony which would start the following night. I wished it would hurry up and be over so that we could all go back to our normal lives. I didn't like all these questions swirling around in my head.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The first two days of the ceremony passed quietly. The Ishvallans seemed enthusiastic about Scar rejoining their number, which was heartening. With the general busy with the ceremony, the rest of us were pretty swamped with all of the paperwork he couldn't complete. At night, I would follow him to the rituals, but I'd always wait outside. As an outsider, I wasn't permitted to watch parts of it. But I couldn't let the general go by himself, especially so soon after Osman's outburst. Other Ishvallans would walk by and smile in my direction. They knew what was going on in the house behind me. Those who I had grown close to stopped to chat with me, telling me about their lives. I loved this part of my job.

At the end of the rituals, I would follow the exhausted general back to headquarters, where he'd head straight to bed. On the second night, I noticed that Chise was much less active than she had been, and Black Hayate would not leave her side. It looked like the puppies would be coming soon.

On the final night of the_ Skari_, there was a huge celebration. Almost every Ishvallan turned out for this, and a few of the Amestrians. This was the only part that outsiders could be a part of. Elyakim, Scar, Kammani, and the general stood in the middle of the crowd, in front of a large bonfire.

Elyakim stepped forward. "Tonight is a momentous occasion. Tonight, we accept into our number a new brother." He gestured to Scar. "With open arms, Ishvala welcomes all."

The general stepped forward. "I bring news of one who has travelled far, and now feels the destination is near." His voice was strong and clear.

Elyakim turned to the general. "Of whom do you speak?"

"Of he, who even now waits before the people."

"What does he seek?" As they continued, I glanced around the crowd, seeing many familiar faces. Those who held invitation wands stood closest to the fire, with the rest of us behind them. The general had forbid any of the soldiers who wanted to attend from carrying weapons, which made me nervous. Mustang made the perfect target right now. But as I looked around, I couldn't see anyone with malicious intent. Everyone was smiling, the younger ones looking on with excitement.

Letting myself relax, I thought about the implications of such a ceremony. Scar was moving forward, letting go of his past. The people here would surround him as family, and he'd find his place in the world. His future was opening up. I thought about my future, and what I intended to do with my life.

The man standing in front of the fire, in his dress uniform. I had devoted my life to him, and his goals. He was my future. I would follow him until the end. All these people around me saw the future as hope, as growing for the better. I suppose, in a way, I did, too. After all, weren't we working for a better future for those who would follow us? However, unlike Scar, there was no place for me in this future. Scar's sins were his own, and could be cleansed. Mine, and Gen. Mustang's, on the other hand, were not our own. The only way to cleanse those sins from the world would be to remove the sinners. We wanted a world in which people would never again do what we had done, and there would be no place in such a world for us. There was only one path for us to take, for a better future, and it would be one that would eradicate all possibility of a personal future for either one of us.

My heart was heavy as I watched the rest of the ceremony. Kammani was holding a long, burgundy cloth, and Scar was standing with Elyakim.

"As you start life afresh, it is only right that you be given a new name. Because of your dedication to rebuilding our homeland, you shall be known as Kaliq, one who creates." As Elyakim spoke, Kammani wrapped the sash around Scar. When she was finished, the four of them began processing around the bonfire, with Kaliq leading. Mustang gave me a sad smile as they passed near me. It seemed that he had been thinking along the same lines. They returned to the center when they had walked all the way around.

"Come, my brethren, and greet our new brother in the name of Ishvala." Elyakim, Kammani, and the general backed away from Kaliq as the other Ishvallans came forward, reaching their arms to him. Kaliq had a soft smile on his face as he reached out his hand to touch those who reached their hands out to him. We soldiers stayed back, watching. Kaliq bowed his head, and I thought I saw tears before the crowd blocked him from my view.

The sight of the vast throng of people reaching out to Scar, now Kaliq, was potent, and I teared up. Mustang had found me, and he smiled. "It'd be nice to be forgiven like that, wouldn't it?"

His smile warmed me more than the heat from the bonfire as I answered, "Yes, sir."


	6. Spark

**Author's Note:** This is MUCH shorter than the previous chapters, and it's also much happier, for the most part. It's sort of a filler chapter, because more happens in their lives than just all angst all the time.

**Some warning**: There is a dog in labor in this chapter. That's the vast majority of this chapter, actually, and I described it, not vividly, but well enough. Also, almost explicit Royai. You've been warned.

* * *

**Kaliq**

"Do you like dogs?" I was surprised when Lt. Colonel Hawkeye approached me after a day of work. We'd never had any interactions that didn't also include Mustang. Her question came out of nowhere, and only added to my confusion.

"Yes." I'd always had a soft spot for small animals. Before the war, I would place food out for the stray animals around the town. I'd never actually had a pet, though. Monks weren't permitted them, and my brother had been allergic to most animals.

The soldier seemed out of her element. "One of the dogs at headquarters is about to give birth. We can't keep all of the puppies around; we don't have the space or the time for them." It was obvious to me how much Hawkeye cared for the dogs, and how reluctant she was to let go of them, even if they weren't born yet. I was surprised to see this side of her, instead of the grounded, matter-of-fact woman who followed Mustang.

I pondered. I could probably handle a puppy, even if I was working on the temple almost all day. I had no intention to become a monk again, so I'd be able to keep the dog long-term. It might be nice, sharing my living space with another creature. "I'll adopt one." I said finally.

Hawkeye visibly relaxed. Of all the things that could be stressing her out, I was surprised how much this worried her. "Thank you."

"Kammani might be able to take one, as well." I added. The older woman always loved company of any kind, and constantly needed to be taking care of someone.

"Yes, I was going to visit her next." Hawkeye answered. She seemed more like herself again, or as much as I knew of her self. "Again, thank you, Kaliq." She held out her hand, and I took it.

As she walked off, I wondered what the Lt. Colonel intended to do once Mustang became Fuhrer. I had learned enough about their relationship to know that she would follow him to Central, but what about after that, after the trials? The likelihood that Mustang would be acquitted was about 50/50. Would she follow him to the grave?

* * *

**Hawkeye**

"Hawkeye!" Havoc's voice jolted me from my reading. His tone meant danger. I grabbed the gun from the side table next to my seat and ran toward the door. Havoc appeared in the open doorway. "Chise's gone into labor!" He said, his eyes wide. He hadn't been there at the first birth, as he'd still been in rehabilitation for his legs.

I breathed out slowly. "Relax, Havoc, she'll be fine. She's done this before with no problems." My words didn't seem to have any effect on him as he shakily reached for a cigarette. "Not in my room." I pushed him out into the hallway and started walking to the break room, tucking the gun into the holster on my leg. I heard Havoc's footsteps behind me. If he was like this now, I couldn't imagine what he'd be like when his first child was born.

Black Hayate was going mad in his pen in the corner. We'd had to put him there when he kept bothering Chise, and now that she was whimpering and pacing the room, he wouldn't quit barking.

" Cap. Havoc, take Hayate to your room and lock the door." I ordered. I washed my hands at the sink and prepared a mat for Chise to lie down on. Her whining was putting me on edge, but I knew I'd just have to wait. I turned off the overhead light in favor of the small lamp in the corner and went to fetch my book. She'd continue pacing and whining for several more hours before anything else happened.

I heard Havoc wrestling with a restless Hayate and grimaced. It was going to be a long night for the both of us, and unlike the dogs, we didn't have the luxury of sleeping during the day tomorrow. The general stuck his head into the hallway.

"What's going on?" he called down to me.

"Chise's gone into labor, sir. Havoc's attempting to restrain Black Hayate." The scared look on his face didn't surprise me. The first time Chise had gone into labor, he'd been a nervous wreck. It would have been endearing, if he hadn't been in the way all the time.

"Oh. Umm, do you need any help?" He asked, stroking the back of his head.

I sighed. "No, thank you, sir. I can handle this." I went into my room and grabbed the book, _Hero of Our Time_. It was a bit dense, so it wouldn't be difficult to put it down if Chise needed something.

Back in the break room, I turned on the coffee pot and sat next to the lamp. I'd need all the help I could get for the long night. Chise continued pacing for another hour before she finally laid down. Even then, she whimpered and broke out into a sweat. She'd occasionally get up and grab a pillow of the couch to bring back to the mat. During the whole four hours of this, I was only able to read about fifteen pages, especially considering two certain soldiers kept interrupting me to check on Chise. I chased them out each time, insisting that I didn't need their help.

I had just gotten to Pechorin galloping after Vera when Chise yipped suddenly. Looking up, I saw yellow-ish liquid spreading from between her hind legs and she rolled over onto her side. Putting the book down, I knelt next to her. I knew there was nothing I could do but watch, but it really was something else to watch this. I heard footsteps behind me and the general crouched down on my right.

"This is it, right?" he asked, sounding nervously excited.

"Yes, sir. We should see puppies soon." Chise started moving one of her front legs frantically, as if she were kicking something, and I placed my hand behind it so she wouldn't injure herself. She pushed hard against my hand and I could see sweat glistening on her coat. After several minutes of this, the first puppy made an appearance. I pulled my hand away from Chise, allowing her to bend over and clean the little guy.

I heard Mustang gasp at the sight and I smiled. The puppy, for all that he was covered in fluids with bulging eyes and looked more like a slimy pink rat than a dog, he was beautiful. Once Chise had cleaned off enough of the fluid for the little guy to breathe and bit off the umbilical cord, he started opening and closing his mouth, his paws twitching. I laughed quietly.

The general stood up to grab a towel while I rubbed Chise's head. "Good girl, good job." I whispered to her. Passing me the towel, Mustang sat down on the ground and reached out to touch the puppies head.

He stopped and pulled his hand back. Turning to me, with a wide-eyed expression, he asked. "Is it okay if I touch him?" He was acting like a little boy.

I smiled and closed my eyes. "It's fine. Just don't rub too hard." I opened the towel in my hands and watched as Mustang reached out with his finger and gently pet the top of the baby's head. His face broke into a huge grin. I reached in to hold the puppy and placed him on the towel. Chise raised herself up on her front legs and followed the puppy with her head into where I placed him on my lap. I rubbed him gently with the towel to clear away the rest of the fluid and Mustang started laughing.

"What is it?"

"You keep using the baby voice to talk to him. It's so unlike you." We both kept our voices low so we didn't disturb the dogs.

"What?" I wasn't aware I was making any sounds. Mustang just kept laughing softly. Eventually, I set the puppy down in front of Chise again, who had lain back down for the next round. We went through that process three more times over the next five hours. It was getting light out when the fourth puppy came.

After petting the most recent puppy, Mustang sighed. "I have to get ready for work." He stood up. "Don't worry about today, Colonel. You need to rest, after Chise's done." He patted me on the shoulder as I placed the only girl of the litter next to her brothers.

I was exhausted, too exhausted to argue. "Thank you, sir." Chise kept licking her newborns as more liquid came out of her vagina. We would most definitely have to wash those pillows, thoroughly.

I don't remember the rest of that day very clearly. At some point, later that morning, Fuery came and relayed orders from the general to stop playing with the puppies and go to bed. Fuery's face when he saw them, though, negated any harshness in the order. And I knew Mustang only made the order sound harsh to keep up appearances in front of the other soldiers. Not that anyone believed him, of course. I did leave, at some point, and Falman came to replace me. I somehow managed to make it back to my room and collapsed on my bed.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Weeks had passed since Hawkeye asked me about adopting a dog. The general told me about the birth, going on and on about how cute the puppies were. It did grate on my nerves after a while, but I did want to see them. After about a week of hearing about the puppies, I finally asked Hawkeye if I could see them.

She seemed surprised. "If you'd like." Mustang, sitting next to her, jumped in.

"Of course! You should definitely come by to see them! They're just starting to open their eyes!" As much as I felt affection for small animals, I felt no affection for the blubbering idiot sitting in front of me.

I blatantly ignored his comments. "Have you heard from the Fuhrer lately?" He hadn't spoken about him since before the puppies were born, but before that, they'd been communicating regularly. My question seemed to shock Mustang, who was no doubt lost in reverie over the newest members of the military.

"Yes, we received a telegram from him two days ago." The general I was more familiar with seemed to return. "His recovery has progressed well. Some people in Central are pushing for him to retire, but you know how he is." Mustang's mind went somewhere else for a few moments, leaving Hawkeye and I in uncomfortable silence.

Hawkeye spoke up. "Sir, we should get back to base." The look in her eyes as she stood up with the general said that she'd picked up on something about Mustang's mood that I hadn't. But then, no one knew Mustang as well as she did.

After they left, I thought about Mustang's devotion to the puppies. He would make a wonderful father, but I don't imagine he had any desire for that, considering the direction of his life. Besides, he'd have to find a willing woman first, and the one closest to him didn't seem like she wanted to leave the military to start a family.

My mind wandered back to that woman who'd brought us lunch at the temple yesterday. She wasn't particularly pretty, but when she smiled at me, ... I couldn't believe I was having those thoughts. It wasn't fair for me to think about that. I didn't deserve my name or my place in the community. How could I even think about anything like that?

* * *

Scar/Kaliq deserves happiness, too! And he's human, so he's more than just revenge, regret, self-hate, repeat.

I promise there'll be more plot in the next chapter. And less Royai. Probably.


	7. Ignition

**Author's Note:** Writing this chapter was an emotional rollercoaster. I may have said there would be less Royai in this chapter ... I lied. There is another OC, but I think you'll like her. A lot of major things happen, so prepare yourself. I have multiple ways I could go from here, so if you want to see something, send me a message.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Toby barked incessantly as the general and his lieutenant colonel entered my house. It had been a long day: we'd started on the third market house in Kanda. Once we'd opened up the main trading center in Ishval, for the exchange route between Xing and Amestris, we'd been swamped with people from both countries who were eager to travel to the other country. Our economy had already felt the benefits of this trade agreement.

Mustang sat on the mats like he always did, Hawkeye right beside him. Toby came over to sniff her hand, tail wagging. He'd grown quite a bit since I adopted him eight months ago. It was when Hawkeye pushed him away that I knew something was different.

Mustang sighed, his eyes closed. "We heard from the Fuhrer this afternoon." he began. Obviously, it wasn't good news. Whatever it was, it seemed to give Mustang some difficulty, and he didn't say anything for a while. Looking at his subordinate, I could see that it was troubling her as well. She seemed more concerned with the news than with how the general was reacting to the news, which was a first.

"He's retiring." I must admit I was a little surprised. Grumman had implied, several times, that he had no intention of retiring. He didn't seem like the sort of man who could sit in a rocking chair all day. But with his recent health issues, I remembered that Mustang had said he was being pressured into it. I waited for Mustang to continue.

It seemed he was waiting for me to say something, searching my face for a reaction. As usual, he was disappointed. Finally, he sighed. "The official announcement will be tomorrow, at the same time as the announcement of his successor."

His voice was restless. "Do you know who that will be?" I asked. Surely, he knew already, if the announcement was being made tomorrow.

He shook his head and Hawkeye looked to the ground. "Not yet." Hawkeye turned her head slightly toward him. I'd been around the two of them long enough to understand that look.

"What about you, Lt. Colonel?" I asked. Hawkeye gave me a look that convinced me. She knew. I couldn't read her well enough to know who, though. If she didn't want something known, it wouldn't be known.'

"I know as much as General Mustang knows." she answered. I knew she was lying, but I was not going to push her. It wasn't as if I wouldn't hear the news tomorrow. What I was more interested in learning was how she knew.

"What will happen if it's you?" For the time being, I pushed aside my questions for the lt. colonel and turned back to Mustang.

Mustang smiled. "I'll leave for Central after making temporary arrangements. Once I get there, Ishval is my number one priority. I might promote Miles and send him back down here, if I can convince him to leave Briggs. Or ..." He trailed off.

I hated when he did this. He obviously had the whole idea in his head, and he was just waiting for me to get pulled in and ask him to continue. He always did this. I had not given in to this tactic yet. No need for his head to get any bigger.

"I could try to get an Ishvallan government set up. Let Ishval be run by Ishvallans."

I smiled at the brightness in his eyes. "How long have you had that idea?"

He smiled sheepishly. "About a minute. That is the end goal, but I thought it would be a long ways off."

I chuckled softly. He always had these spur of the minute ideas, and he usually burnt out on them after about a week, just in time for the new one. And if he was going to be the new Fuhrer, he'd have a lot more on his plate to be thinking about. Ishval probably wouldn't be run by Ishvallans for a while.

Toby started barking toward the entrance to my house. It seemed someone had stopped by to join us. I stood up to invite them in, and I was surprised to see Mida standing outside. She usually avoided my discussions with Mustang. She trusted the Amestrians, but she seemed afraid of him for some reason.

"Good evening, Kaliq." she said. She seemed reluctant to be there.

"Good to see you, Mida. Come in." I stepped back to let her in. She nodded in the general's direction as she sat on the mat to the left of where I usually sat. Her eyes remained riveted on the floor as I sat back down.

"Your name is Mida?" Mustang asked, using the friendliest tone he had. "I've seen you before, but I haven't heard your name."

She glanced up at him briefly, smiling politely. "Yes. I'm a friend of Kaliq's." I was taken aback. We'd spoken on multiple occasions, and I enjoyed her company, but I'd never really considered her a friend. I thought about the people I might consider friends. There wasn't anyone, really. Cemal was friendly toward me, Kammani was more like an aunt, ... there were the men I worked with, but none of them were what I would consider a friend. And Mida, I saw more of her than most anyone else, but that isn't enough to be friends.

"Nice to meet you. Did you have something you wanted to ask?" Mustang still had his charm turned all the way up. Most of the other Ishvallans who came to listen to Mustang usually had questions for him, about the country, about Ishval, about upcoming projects, about particular soldiers, etc. I wondered if maybe Mida was like that. I was worried that she might have come to get angry at Mustang for what he had done.

After a moment, she shook her head. "I have something to tell you." I could see Hawkeye tense up, expecting Mida to suddenly jump toward Mustang. But I knew Mida wouldn't attack him. She couldn't hurt anyone. The one other time I saw her angry, she seemed more sad than anything. She had yelled, certainly, but she remained very still, and when she finished yelling, she just stood there, her long hair draping over her face. And that had been after a long battle between her patience and the perceived wrong.

Mida raised her face to look directly into the lt. colonel's eyes. Both Amestrians' eyes widened. "During the war, you-" Mida abruptly stopped when her voice broke over the last word. Her fists were clenched, pressing hard into her knees. She closed her eyes, trying to control herself. Looking over at the others, Mustang's eyes were still wide, but Hawkeye's had softened. "You shot my sister. And her son."

No one moved. The only sounds in the house were Mida's short breaths as she tried to hold back her tears. We were all in a state of shock. Most of those who still held resentment toward soldiers because of the war had approached them early on in the reconstruction. I was shocked that Mida had held on to this for so long. I had listened to her convince other Ishvallans that the war was over, that the Amestrians were here to help, and I'd watched her help someone let go of their anger toward another soldier. It seemed unlike her to hold a grudge against Hawkeye for this long.

Mustang spoke, breaking the silence. "There's something else, isn't there?" His voice was gentle, not the usual way he spoke about the war. He was seeing something I wasn't. Mida nodded. She ran her hands through her hair so that it fell over one shoulder and clasped her hands in her lap.

"You buried them." It seemed there would be no end to the surprises tonight. "At the end of the day, after you shot them, you came back and buried them. I watched you." She sobbed openly, her shoulders fell, and she bowed her head. Hawkeye was staring at the floor, looking on the verge of tears herself, and Mustang's eyes were closed. I looked toward Mida, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, Mida looked up at Hawkeye, startling her. "Why?"

Mustang turned his head just enough to look at her out of the corner of his eyes. He looked mildly concerned, which meant he was greatly concerned. I didn't know about Hawkeye burying those she killed. I knew most Ishvallans had been buried, but in mass graves, done by soldiers assigned to that task. Burying people, after fighting all day, must have been exhausting. I wanted to know why she did it, as well.

Hawkeye looked down at her hands. "I needed to finish what I started." She said nothing else, and the room was silent again for a while. Mida was shocked and finally spoke.

"What do you mean?"

Hawkeye looked at the other woman. "My hands removed them from this world. Therefore, it was my job to make sure they left this world properly." Her voice was soft, softer than I had ever heard it. But she never wavered once.

Mida nodded and her tears came in a steady pace. "Thank you." she whispered. Her response surprised Hawkeye so much that she couldn't control the tears that spilled over her eyelids. Mida held out her hand, and Hawkeye took it.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

When Fuery first received the telegram, he'd rushed into the break room. Thank goodness the general wasn't there; Fuery couldn't keep a secret to save his life. Well, not from us. I had known for a while, since we'd visited the Fuhrer in the hospital, but it was nice to know for certain. The telegram also had instructions not to inform the general until the announcement, which proved somewhat difficult for the rest of the team. After days of awkward excuses to leave the room, we were finally standing on the stage for the announcement. A representative from Central had come down for the official announcement, as other representatives had gone to all large military bases in the country. In Ishval, it just so happened that the civilians outnumbered the soldiers in the area.

Colonel Dryden gave a speech about progress and the future and all that, while the general sat next to me, in his dress uniform, subtly picking at a thread which had not previously been loose on his coat. I was worried about how Col. Dryden's announcement would be received by the Ishvallans. The general was a part of Ishval, as much as it was a part of him. The news that he would be leaving would probably not rest well with many people. But it was necessary, as Dryden's speech said, to keep moving forward.

"Fuhrer Grumman has made it known that he wants his successor to be a person of the people, who will continue re-fashioning this country to make its government more representative of and accessible to its people. He has decided that the fate of Amestris lies best in the hands of General Roy Mustang."

The general froze and the muscles in his jaw relaxed from the intense position they'd been in. For a second, there was silence as Dryden's words echoed out. Then, the applause began. Some people yelled out in approval. Gen. Mustang stood up, his face still terrified, to acknowledge their applause. He smiled, obviously faking, still in shock. It was cruel of Grumman not to tell him about his decision. But that's who he was.

As Mustang waved his hand, and the people cheered, my heart felt as if it were growing too quickly for the confines of my ribs. I couldn't help but smile at him. Dryden turned around to salute him, and the rest of us stood to give him the same. He'd done it. He'd finally done it.

For the rest of the day, Mustang was congratulated, toasted, clapped on the back. And I was always there, still full of the warm pride in my commanding officer. I had heard it directly from Grumman himself, seen it on a telegram, but this. This was when it became real. The general wore his new authority well. He constantly smiled, laughing when people would joke about his slacking off, grasp hands warmly when they spoke sincerely, and he was every bit my general.

The day drew to a close and the lower-ranking soldiers went back to their barracks. A few Ishvallans stuck around longer, but by the time it was truly dark, our team was alone in the break room. The general stood, still in a state of shock, in front of the couch. The rest of us all had huge smiles on our faces.

"Do you think it's all right for the future leader of a country to fall over onto a sofa?" His voice was shaking a bit with disbelief. Havoc, Fuery and Breda threw back their heads and roared with laughter. The smile that had been hiding on my face all day completely overtook it. Mustang turned around and plopped down onto the couch, letting out a huge sigh as a smile covered his whole face.

Havoc pulled out a box from under the table where he was sitting. "I got you a little something, sir." He opened it up and pulled out three bottles of scotch.

"That's a quick turn around to get that kind of drink." Mustang said.

"Yeah, well, I had a little more time to prepare. Fuery got the news yesterday."

Mustang's smile faded a little. "Are you telling me that you all knew, BUT NO ONE TOLD ME?" He jumped back up, in his usual comic manner.

"Well, yeah, I mean, they can't just spring information like that on us. And I think Hawkeye knew for a lot longer." I narrowed my eyes at Fuery, who immediately got that look that Hayate gets when he wets the floor.

He turned around to me. "Is this true, Lt. Colonel Hawkeye?" His voice had lowered, but it still held the same amount of indignation.

"Yes, sir." No point in hiding it, now that Fuery had said something.

"I had thought as much." His anger dissipated, which shocked me.

"Sir?"

"Well, what else could Grumman have been talking to you about when we were in Central?" He put on his usual goofy grin and got a glass down from the cabinet. I knew he wasn't finished with me, but he was putting on a show for the guys, so I played along. I didn't drink any of the scotch, though; I can't stand it.

Finally, after one and half bottles had been finished, the rest of the team headed off to bed. Mustang had waved them off, saying he needed a minute alone in the break room. I stayed behind, afraid to leave him on his own. As it turns out, he didn't want to be by himself.

"You knew?" He was more than a little intoxicated, but his speech and intention were clear.

"Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Grumman told me in Central, when he spoke to me alone." I didn't know how the general would react. He didn't seem particularly thrilled with my not telling him, but he didn't seem angry.

He stood up and walked toward me, smiling gently. "Thank you."

I was apprehensive about the way he was acting. He seemed too familiar right now. "For what, sir?"

His smile widened briefly. "At the moment? Not telling me." He stopped a few feet from me, surprisingly steady for how much alcohol he'd drunk. "If I had known, today wouldn't have been as wonderful as it has been. So thank you for that."

"You're welcome, sir." My eyes widened as he started reaching out to me, coming closer. Seeing my reaction, he quickly put his hand on his hair, as if that had been his intention all along.

"It's not just that, though. Thank you for everything. You are the reason I've gotten to this point. And really, it's more like ... we've gotten to this point." He dropped his hand back down his side and I could have sworn his face grew even more flushed than it already had been. He stared straight into my eyes as he stepped toward me, taking my hand. "Thank you."

I smiled back. "You'll always have my support."

He chuckled at that, his eyes crinkling with warmth. He pulled me closer into a hug, and I was terrified. I wasn't used to him being a happy drunk, or hugging me. His arms tightened around me as he whispered, "We did it, Riza."

For a second, I let myself relax. I put my arms around him, rested my head on his shoulder. "Yes, we did, sir." He let his cheek rest against my head and we just stood like that for a while.

Then, he said, "You smell nice."

I laughed and pulled away. "That's very kind of you, sir." His eyes had that look I was so used to ignoring, and I smiled. "It's time we went to bed. Long day tomorrow."

He gave me a sloppy salute. "Yes, sir!" I almost had to push him out of the room, but I did get him back to his door. I turned to go back to my room, and he grabbed my arm.

I sighed. This wasn't the first time I'd had to deal with him like this. "No, sir." He began stroking my palm. Thank God I was sober. "Good night, sir." I pulled my hand away and walked back down the hallway. I cursed myself as I felt my legs swinging more than necessary. I always did this when I knew he was watching me.

But soon he would be Fuhrer, and he'd be able to reshape the nation. The pressure would be intense. So maybe letting him watch me walk away wouldn't be so terrible.

* * *

**Author's Note**: That Royai scene just about got away from me. Kaliq's dog is named Toby because of Cap'nHoozits wonderful story, Sons of the Desert, which you should definitely read!

The next chapter probably won't come out for a while. It's just about time for finals, and I'm about to be swamped. But things are definitely about to change for them, so maybe it's a decent breaking point. Any and all comments are appreciated!


	8. Scintillating

**Author's Note:** I realized that this chapter was going to be ridiculously long, so I'm splitting it into two pieces. That means that you all get a chapter much sooner than either of us expected! When you get to Hawkeye's bit, don't worry. I have a plan.

Thanks to forgottencharacter for the suggestions and brainstorming, and to Cap'nHoozits for the review!

* * *

**Kaliq**

Two months after the announcement was made, we all gathered around our radios. One man fiddled with the dials, trying to clear up the sound as much as possible. Mida placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. I gave her a brief smile as we waited, holding our breath. Then, the loud sound of music hit us, bursting out of the small box sitting on the table. I recognized it as Battle Hymn of Amestris, one of the most 'patriotic' songs in the country. After a few minutes, the song ended, and the announcer began speaking over the waves.

"Welcome back! For those of you just now joining us, we are covering Fuhrer Mustang's inauguration ceremony in front of Central Command. This is indeed a momentous occasion, as the first peaceful transition of power this country has ever seen. Many of you probably remember the last transition, from the late Fuhrer King Bradley to-" The sound suddenly cut out.

Grumbles of discontent came from some of the people listening to the radio as that guy tried to get it back. After several minutes, we did manage to get sound back.

"-aide, Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye, accompanied by Colonel Imman Miles." The announcer rattled on about their achievements and recent activities, as well as their relationships with the Fuhrer. I thought back to a conversation I'd had with Hawkeye before they left.

"I missed the last inauguration. What is it, exactly?"

She gave me a tired smile. "A lot of formalities, really. The main part is the oath. The rest of it is mostly just hand-waving and speeches. But that's what he's good at." She nodded in the direction of the general, who was chatting with a few Ishvallans.

"How long does it last?"

"Longer than is comfortable. Personally, I think they should just do away with all the introductions and processions and all of that, and just have him walk in, take the oath, and have done with it." She sounded vaguely annoyed.

"You hate it that much?"

She sighed. "I don't hate it. It's just a big mess to deal with, security wise. You've got him, standing on an open balcony, not to mention every other important official in Amestris, in front of a large crowd, and me in a dress uniform."

I raised my brow. "You won't be on security detail?"

She shook her head. "I'm his personal assistant. I haven't been on security detail for any public event since before the Promised Day."

I could just imagine her up there in the throng of important people. Her and Miles. They probably put them next to each other so that other people wouldn't have to listen to them gripe. Not that they would, of course. Neither of them were very open about their dislike of public events at said events.

They went through a list of other people, including Major General Armstrong. The announcers discussed the rumors of her candidacy, even though nothing official had been released about the people Grumman had been considering. I didn't understand the media.

Finally, a fanfare started playing. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fuhrer of Amestris, Lionel Grumman, accompanied by Fuhrer Appointed Roy Mustang, Parliament Sergeant at Arms, Major Alex Louis Armstrong, Parliament Speaker, Josef Duval, Chancellor Augustin Richards, and Head of the Parliament Committee for Inauguration, Charles Erikson." The crowd cheered as a band played the Military Salute, the song of the Fuhrer. The announcer named every person that either Grumman or Mustang spoke to, and there were plenty of names.

Mida grasped my hand, staring intently at the little brown box. I was startled, but I didn't pull away. If it made her feel better, then I would hold her hand.

That Erikson man was announced again, and he spoke for several minutes about the "simplicity" of the ceremony. I rolled my eyes at that, and I could almost see Hawkeye and Miles doing the same. He continued his speech for a while, most of which was anecdotes about the country's past. After him, there were six people, some from the parliament, some from the military, that spoke about transferring power, the importance of a peaceful transition, the power and responsibility of government, etc.

Then, Fuhrer Grumman and General Roy Mustang came up to perform the oath.

Grumman's voice came over the radio. "General Roy Mustang, are you willing to take the oath?"

Mustang answered. "I am willing."

"Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of Amestris and other territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?"

Mustang answered. "I solemnly swear so to do."

"And will you, to your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all your judgements?"

"I will."

"Will you, to your power, promote the welfare of the Amestrian peoples and protect them from harm?"

"I will."

"And will you, to your power, uphold and defend the Basic law and the laws of the federation?"

"All this, I swear to do." There was some rustling, and then Mustang continued. "The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep."

The loudest cheering we'd heard yet came over the radio, as well as more music. Mida wiped her eyes, ducking her head. She explained to me that she wanted him to be Fuhrer, so that he could help the rest of Amestris the way that he had helped Ishval. The other people listening with us were hugging, laughing, some crying. I reached out to Mida, who looked up, surprised. She smiled, and approached me with a hug. The moment was much anticipated, and emotions were running high. I'd had so little human contact in over a decade, I accepted her embrace.

Most of the other people in the room were shouting, excited about the inauguration. But for me, the inauguration was less exciting and more ... right. I trusted Mustang to lead this country, and to change it for the better. So it seemed a more apt expression of my feelings about the situation to quietly embrace a friend. Mida's armed tightened slightly, and I looked down to make sure she was all right. She had tears on her face, which she let run down her cheeks. Some of them were absorbed into my arkaluk, darkening the light fabric. I pulled back just enough so that she looked up at me. She wore the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, with deep wrinkles surrounding her wide mouth. My stomach suddenly became uneasy and a lump formed in my throat. But I smiled back, and raised my hand to wipe away a tear that had settled on her jaw.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The first few days back in Central involved an uncomfortable amount of shopping. First, those who weren't becoming Fuhrer needed to find a place to live. I was exempt from that, thank goodness, as I was made personal adjutant to the Fuhrer. The quarters for that position were located in the same building as the Fuhrer's residence. But I needed to shop for furniture, as the previous tenant took everything with him when he left. Then, there was clothes shopping, something which I was never fond of. Don't misunderstand, I enjoy trying on different clothing. It's just that I sometimes have difficulty finding suitable clothing to hide certain features. However, because of the general's new status, and by extension, my new status, I needed more formal clothing for events, including the inauguration.

Madame Christmas, who knew the gist of my situation, recommended a few places that were more modest, as the latest fashions were rather revealing. I was grateful for her advice, although the first store she recommended was a little too outdated for my tastes. The second store on the list, the Lilac Boutique, seemed perfect. I had picked out a high-necked blue dress to try on when a familiar figure came through the door.

"Lt. Colonel Hawkeye!" The brown-haired woman with the young girl smiled at me. "It's great to see you!"

I smiled back. "It's great to see you, too, Ms. Hughes." I looked down at the child. "And look at you, Elicia. You've grown so much!" Elicia smiled widely.

"How are you settling in?" Gracia asked.

I sighed. "There's a lot to be done. My apartment is just furnished enough to be liveable at this point, and I need to get a whole new wardrobe."

The woman nodded toward the dress I was holding. "Is that for the inauguration?" I nodded. "Hmm." She looked down at her daughter. "Do you want to help Col. Hawkeye today, honey?"

"Yeah!" Elicia nodded emphatically. I looked at Gracia for an explanation.

She laughed. "She's been going through this phase where she wants to give everyone a makeover. I hope you don't mind."

I smiled down at the girl. "I don't mind at all. I could use the help." Kneeling down, dress still in hand, I seriously into Elicia's eyes. "I'm entrusting my fate to you, Elicia." She giggled.

The rest of the day was a blast. I would model almost any dress Elicia picked out for me, the ones that hid my secret, and she would comment on the style, the color, or the ornaments, whichever she liked best. In the end, with her advice, I chose a sleeveless dark blue dress, slightly darker than my uniform, with a bateau neckline. I chose a matching blue sheer jacket, just enough to give me a little bit of sleeve. It was simple, which suited me, but there was such elegance when it shifted. I felt slightly embarassed; it was too beautiful of a dress for me. But it suited my needs, so I bought it. Luckily, it was one of the less expensive of the dresses Elicia had liked, and it was less than I expected to pay. I didn't accept the general's offer to pay for the dress. He had wanted to, as it was because of him that I had to bother with it, but he wouldn't be the one choosing or wearing it, so I told him no. Besides, who knows what other occasions I would have to wear this dress?

I left the store with the Hughes', bag in hand. "Would you like to have lunch with us, lt. colonel?" Gracia asked.

"That would be nice. And you can call me Riza." As we discussed where to go, Elicia, standing between us, slipped her hand into mine. I was surprised; the girl and I were acquainted, of course, but I hadn't been around her very much. The rare times I had been were when I was with the general on a visit, or when Brigadier General Hughes threw a party. Her hand felt so small and soft. It was nice.

We went to a deli closer to Central Command, because, as Elicia explained, "It's my favorite!" There were a few tables outside, with many off-duty military personnel. We were seated by the hostess in the far corner of the patio.

"So, what has changed since you were last in Central?" Gracia asked.

I thought back over the past year. "Chise had another litter of puppies. All but one of them were adopted by Ishvallan families."

"Puppies?!" Elicia asked excitedly. "Can I see them?"

I looked at Gracia who nodded. "Of course. We can go meet her later, if your mother says it's all right."

Elicia did her best imitation of Black Hayate, and Gracia sighed. "You don't have to convince me. We can go meet the puppy. That is, if it's not intruding."

"Not at all. I haven't had any guests, yet." We talked a bit about Ishval, and about Elicia's school project. She'd had to artistically represent the water cycle, and she was very proud of her sculpture. We finished lunch and headed back to my apartment for Elicia to meet the puppy.

She and Amete hit it off right away, feeding off of each other's energy. When Elicia asked about adopting her, I felt a little sorry for Gracia. Of course Elicia would want to keep Amete; every child wants a pet. Gracia smiled wearily at me as she explained to Elica that they couldn't take care of a puppy. Elicia took it all in stride, surprisingly, and kept playing with the dogs, who enjoyed her company. Gracia and I sat on the sofa.

"Is Roy nervous about becoming the Fuhrer?" she asked. She was one of the few people who knew the other side of Roy, the side that wasn't the charming leader.

"A little. He's been expecting this for a while, but I think it's finally hitting him." I was in unfamiliar territory. I didn't have many female friends, no friends outside the military. Gracia frightened me, honestly. She seemed so sure of herself, and so content with her life, even though she was raising Elicia by herself. I didn't know how to talk to her.

"I remember when he and Maes used to talk on the phone for hours, outlining plans for promotion, networking with higher-ranking officers, and all that. Maes always had such faith in him." Her smile was knowing and kind as she spoke of her husband.

"His faith was much appreciated. Even now, the thought of him keeps the general on the right track."

"That's good to hear." We sat in silence, watching Hayate chase Elicia around the room.

"How are you two doing?" I asked. Raising a child by yourself was difficult. I remembered my own father, completely consumed by loss, neglecting everything but his work, trying to bring her back. Gracia was nothing like him, and I was immensely grateful for that, for Elicia's sake.

"We're all right. Gracia's growing up to be just like her father, which is tiresome sometimes. I'm lucky I've got the job that I do. My boss is very understanding."

"Are you still working at the newspaper office?" She was the secretary for one of the editors of Amestris Today, the widest circulated newspaper in the country.

Gracia nodded. "I work four days a week, during school hours. I have Mondays off to run errands without Elicia. It's not much, but we're still getting a pension from the military, thanks to Maes, so we're making do." I admired her greatly. She was probably the strongest person I knew. "And you've got a new job." She said, obviously changing the subject.

I smiled, but let her direct the conversation. "Yes. I'm doing the same thing I always have, except now I'm getting paid for it." We both laughed. Gracia and Hughes were probably the only two in the world who knew the extent of the relationship between the general and me. That was one of the reasons I'd never really spoken to Gracia; I'd been reluctant to speak with someone who knew so many details about my life without knowing me first.

Gracia's eyes followed her daughter around the room. "So what's next for our Fuhrer?"

It seemed that Gracia was just as skilled as the general or me at keeping her true thoughts hidden. "What do you mean? What does he plan to do as Fuhrer?"

"Not exactly." She smiled apologetically at me. "There are ... rumors about him."

"What kind of rumors?" She was obviously reluctant to broach this subject, and that put me on edge. Whatever it was didn't seem particularly threatening, but if there was something that I missed ...

"Well, people are intrigued by a man of Roy's age remaining ... unattached." She laughed when I raised my eyebrows. "The most recent Fuhrer had been married for years before she died of a terminal illness. The Fuhrer before him married long before he came into the role. People like a balanced leader."

"Balanced?"

"I mean they like someone who has some grounding, someone to ground him." I knew where she was trying to go with this.

"Gracia, do you really think-" Elicia ran up to us at that point.

"You should marry Uncle Roy!" she said, a knowing smile on her face. She looked exactly like her father with that expression, minus the glasses. Gracia appeared just as surprised as me.

I chuckled. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm in love with my job." I smiled. It was true, I did love what I did. Elicia frowned at me, squishing her lips to the side like she was thinking of something. Then, she abruptly shrugged and walked off.

Gracia looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "What?" I asked.

"I may not know you very well, Riza, but that was a bit of a loaded statement."

"What do you mean?"

"'I'm in love with my job?'" She gave me a sideways look.

I rolled my eyes. Everyone around us was convinced there was something between the general and me. "I like the work that I do, and I believe in the cause that I'm supporting. And there are many other reasons why the general and I shouldn't ..." She laughed at my flustered state. But really, how could she think that? "For starters, there is not, nor has there ever been, any romantic anything between him and me. And even if there were, neither of us has any intention of leaving the military any time soon. Not only are there laws against relationships within the military, it's a bad idea." On top of all of that, if the general completed the entirety of his goal, neither of us would be around much longer. I shot an annoyed look away from Gracia or Elicia. I was tired of people assuming things they shouldn't.

Gracia gave me a concerned smile. "All right. It seems we've hit on a touchy subject. What I was saying before Elicia stepped in is that people don't like a leader who doesn't have a family. They see someone who blows around, and Roy's reputation doesn't help with that. You and I both know that he isn't really like that, but the general public doesn't. Think about how often they've seen a more serious side of him." She had a point. The general was the war hero, a skilled soldier, and very charismatic, but people also saw him as a cocky playboy who frequented places of lesser repute. A steady relationship would certainly tone down that particular impression of him. It wouldn't be a bad strategic move. I didn't like the idea, mostly because we'd be using someone to make him look better, but I'd talk to him about it.

I smiled at her. "Sorry if I came off a bit harsh. It's just that a lot of people think there's something more going on between us," My mind wandered to Havoc, "and in Central, they tend to make a bigger deal of it."

"Fair enough. I think it's time we got going. We're having dinner with a family from Elicia's school, and we have to get ready." We both stood up off the couch. "Come on, Elicia." Elicia left her spot next to Chise. "Say thank you to Miss Riza."

"Thanks for letting me play with your dogs." the nine-year-old said.

"You're welcome. I think Amete likes you." To Gracia, I said, "You are welcome anytime, if you'd like to stop by. I don't get many chances to talk to other women."

Gracia laughed. "I bet not. We'll see you around." I closed the door behind them, suddenly aware of how quiet my rooms were. Even with three dogs, one less than a year old, this didn't even compare to the way it was in Ishval. It would take some getting used to.

* * *

Before you get all "But she loves him!" and all of that, I know that. In my opinion, the people around them keep pushing for it, and it's dangerous to their plans, so she denies it to the point that she believes what she's saying. Go back and read chapter 4 if you're still unsure about how much Royai this story will contain. Or chapter 7 for that matter.

The next chapter will contain some new developments in Ishval and a familiar face in Central. No guarantees for when it'll come out, though.


	9. Simmer

**Author's Note:** Hehe, so this is, yet again, being published MUCH earlier than expected. I'm not avoiding finals, what are you talking about? Anyway, you're about to see some very familiar faces, and significant amounts of angsty Royai. Thanks to Cap'nHoozits, LittleAlchemist, Sweet Genocide, and 96bittersweetblackcat for the lovely reviews!

Warning: The first part of Hawkeye's section is a little risque.

* * *

**Kaliq**

"Stop!" I heard a familiar voice shouting in terror as the owner of the voice ran toward a young boy taking a sip from his brother's canteen. The boy's face screwed up as he spit it back out on the ground. Other people around the site stopped to look as the shorter, rounder man stopped in front of the boys. He took the canteen from the boy and poured a little into a small container he pulled out of a pocket.

I approached them, worried about them causing a scene. "What's going on?"

The man turned to face me, and I drew back in surprise. Dr. Marcoh seemed as stunned to see me as I was to see him. It had been three years since I'd last seen him, when he expressed a desire to withdraw from the main part of Ishval. He said he'd met someone who remembered him from the war, and he didn't want his presence to cause discomfort. For him to be back now meant something was definitely going on.

"Ah, it's you." He handed the little vial of water to me. "I think there's something wrong with the most recent shipment of water." I looked into the container and saw tiny, white flecks floating around. If he was right, and the entire shipment was contaminated, we were in trouble. We'd been trying to find a steady water supply since we'd arrived back in Ishval, but the damage to the landscape was too severe for us to use the reservoirs we'd used previously. We'd managed to find a decent amount of clean water, but not enough for all of us. Captain Havoc had struck a deal with the municipal government of East City. We desperately needed that water. He turned back to the boy. "Did it taste strange?"

He nodded. Marcoh seemed to be overwhelming the kid, so I knelt down in front of him. "What did it taste like?" I kept my voice even and quiet, unlike Marcoh's excited tone. I knew these boys; they were nephews of one of the monks I knew from before.

"It was salty." The younger one muttered. He didn't like the attention the rest of the workers around were giving us. He was about nine years old, so he probably remembered living in slums around Amestris. He probably remembered his parents or his older brother warning him that attention was bad.

But the water was salty. I asked for the canteen, which they gave to me. Marcoh seemed wary as I took a little taste of it. It was salty, but it was something else. It was diluted, like someone had put chalk dust in it. It was nasty. "Where did you fill up your canteen?" I asked the older boy.

"At the military base." Many of the workers who didn't have a permanent home, yet, stopped by the military base in the morning for food and water. The older brother had a hardened look in his eyes, like someone who had the fight for everything he had, and who didn't hope that things would work out in their favor. He must have been in his early teens, probably an orphan, taking care of his brother.

"Can you show us?" Marcoh asked, his tone decidedly calmer. The boys nodded and we followed them back. I waved to the other workers, to say that I would be back later. We were finishing up work in the Ziran residential district, which had been the poorer neighbor of Gunja. During the war, Ziran was the most badly hit, probably because of the weaker architecture. Many artisans chose to settle there when they returned. The others would make do without me for a little while.

Marcoh stopped abruptly on the way to the base. When I turned to look at him, he said, "Go on ahead. I'll catch up." He didn't meet my eyes, and I knew he was lying. I took his arm and roughly moved him forward. "What are you doing?!" The boys were watching us with wide eyes.

"Come on," I called to them, "we need to report this as soon as possible." To Marcoh, I lowered my voice so the kids wouldn't hear us. "You're the one who figured this out. You need to be the one to talk to Miles." Marcoh continued to protest, but I ignored him. Some things were more important than personal problems.

At the base, two of the soldiers on Miles' team told us to wait while they went to Miles. He was in a meeting with Xingese officials about the trade agreement. I thought that had been settled months ago, but apparently there were still things to talk about. Marcoh fidgeted, which put the boys on edge as well.

"What are your names?" I asked them, trying to get them to think about something else.

The older one answered, "I'm Vedran, and this is Yasef." He held his brother's hand tightly, despite the younger boy's constant movement.

"Where do you live?"

"In Kanda, with our cousin." For some reason, it was obvious that Vedran respected me, albeit begrudgingly. He was answering my questions, truthfully, from what I could tell.

"What is your cousin's name?" I wondered if it was someone I knew. Their family was familiar to me, and it would be nice to hear news of my former brother.

"Her name is Agniya. She's married to Suraya." I did remember Agniya. She was no more than a child during the war, and she would bring pastries to the monks. Suraya sounded familiar, but I couldn't put the name to a face.

"Do you remember anything about the water this morning?" Dr. Marcoh asked. Vedran seemed startled by his sudden intrusion on our conversation, but he answered.

"It was normal. They had the big tanks and people were in line to fill up their canteens. The guys that filled up mine said that the tanks just arrived the night before."

The door that led to the conference rooms opened and Colonel Miles walked in. "Sca- excuse me, Kaliq, I was told you wanted to see me?" He stopped when he saw Marcoh, waiting for one of us to say something.

"Something's wrong with the recent water delivery." Marcoh said. His voice was quiet and his hood fell over his eyes. He preferred to keep out of the military's radar.

Miles frowned. "And you boys?"

Vedran's eyes widened but he answered smoothly. "We have some of the water to show you."

Miles turned his eyes back to me. "I'm assuming you came with them because the doctor here asked you to?"

"I came with them because the doctor was reluctant to report this."

He smirked. "I bet. Come with me, we'll examine the water."

In one of the conference rooms, we showed Miles the vial of water, with the particles still clearly visible. He sipped out of the canteen and swallowed, grimacing. Marcoh explained to him his theory that the water came from a contaminated underground spring, and that the people who sent it to us probably didn't know about it. Miles ordered a team to go to East City and find the source of the water. It wouldn't be good for East City to have this water, either. When that was done, I returned to work with fresh water. The boys were sent to the other work sites to tell everyone else about the water.

Some of the people I worked with suspected foul play. It crossed my mind when I first saw it, I'll admit, but it had been five years. Why would someone start this now? Obviously, it was just a mistake someone made along the supply route. Either someone put it in the wrong tank or the water was already contaminated. And it would soon be fixed.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

I adjusted my hips so that they fit snugly against his as he pulled my hair back from my neck. His lips brushed lightly across my neck, and my whole body tensed as his hand played with the top of my pants. His other arm held me firmly against his chest, quelling my squirming. His chuckled roughly as I moaned and moved up to nibble my ear. "Roy" I breathed, praying for his hand to stop toying with the drawstring and dip down.

"aAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHSHHHHHHHH!" A shout jolted me awake, instantly disseminating any lingering pleasure from the dream. It was still dark outside the window, but I felt instantly awake, waiting for the next clue as to what that scream could have been. I reached into the drawer of the nightstand for my gun and tucked it into the back of my pants.

"NOOO! NO! STOP!" That was the Fuhrer's voice, and my mind went blank as I rushed out into the hall. I ran to the Fuhrer's door and threw it open. Fuhrer Mustang was crouched against the wall next to the stairs, his head in his hands. I dropped down beside him.

"Sir!" my voice startled him, and he looked up at me with wide eyes, pupils dilated.

"I ORDERED YOU TO STOP!" He yelled as he lunged at me. He was still dreaming. He knocked me to the floor, pinning me down. I had seen his night terrors before, and the only way to help him was to play along.

"I have stopped, sir." I said as gently as I could.

"Don't go in there!" His eyes filled with tears, which shocked me more than anything else. I'd only seen him cry once before, no matter how bad the dreams had gotten.

"I won't, sir. I promise. I'll stay right here." My shoulders were starting to hurt from where he was pushing them against the floor. My words seemed to take the wind out of him as he slowly relaxed, his hands still holding onto my shoulders. His eyes refocused and widened. "Sir?" I asked.

He sat back on his knees and looked away. I didn't move. "Sir, are you awake?" He backed off of my legs and nodded.

I sat up and waited for him to say something. He said nothing for a very long time and then stood up, turning to the stairs. My heart sank when he put his hand on the rails. "Say something, sir."

His head turned back toward me, halting and twitching. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I'm all right." His eyes were far away, back in the dream. He began to climb the stairs.

"Sir, wait." I stood and moved to the foot of the stairs. He didn't stop, so I started up.

He turned to look at me then. "Colonel, I'm fine. Go back to bed." His tone was an order, so I saluted him.

"I can't do that, sir." His shoulders slumped even further down. "Please, sir."

"What do you want me to do?!" He turned around completely, fire in his eyes. I set my mouth, preparing for the battle.

"I want you to face this. Whatever it was that you were dreaming about, I haven't heard about it, yet, which means it's something you believe is the worst thing you've ever seen or done. The nightmares will come back, and I want both of us to be prepared." I dropped my salute and glared right back at him. "You need to stop running from it, sir."

His glare faltered for a second. "Col. Hawkeye, you are- just- uhhh!"

"I know, sir. 'The most frustrating person you've ever met.'" He came back down to stand on the same step as me. I turned to follow him down, but his hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me against the wall. I grunted when my head hit the wall, but his mouth covered up the sound and I was so confused. I pushed him back immediately, furious. "Sir!" He seemed just as shocked as I was, but that didn't stop me. "That was- You can't-" I took a breath to get a hold of myself. "That was not okay, sir."

He lowered his eyes and put his hand in his hair. "You're right. I'm sorry." I reached up to touch the place where my head had hit the wall, which was starting to feel very sore. My heart was racing, but I decided to ignore that for now. Just like I was ignoring the dream.

"Let's just get some water or something and talk about your dream, all right?" Neither of us moved. I wasn't going to move until he did, taking my cues from him.

"Look, colonel, I ... can't talk about this right now. I'm ... I need to relax, and ... you're not helping." He never once looked at me while he talked.

I suddenly had a very strange thought and struggled to keep color from rushing to my face. "I understand, sir. We can talk about it in the morning. I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble." I walked back down the remaining steps and opened the adjoining door to my apartment.

Hayate was waiting for me, tail down and ears flat. He'd probably heard the screaming, and now could see my nerves. I closed the door behind me and knelt down to pet him. I murmured soothing things, as much for myself as for him. I got a glass of water and tried to read a little, to clear my head, but I couldn't concentrate on the words. The one question I had thought of in the other room wouldn't leave me. What did he do on those nights he had nightmares and no one was there? I had Hayate and Chise, and now Amete, but the fuhrer, he was all alone. I suddenly felt exhausted and returned to bed. It was my turn to have a nightmare.

_She was nothing but fire, screaming, and all I could do was watch her run across the yard, frozen like the man on the porch. Then he started screaming, running after her, calling for her to stop. She collapsed, and he on top of her, trying to smother the flames with his own body. But it was too late. The awful smell filled everything, everywhere, and all I knew was that smell. My small legs gave out and I fell, dropping my doll made of straw. Looking down, the doll with the green eyes began to burn, and everything around me was engulfed. I saw him walking toward me, bleeding, reaching out, needles in his hands. I screamed and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, he was replaced by his student, his eyes bright, looking at the flames around us with excitement. Suddenly, I was very afraid of my father's student. Afraid that he would do to someone what my father did to my mother. And then, I was on fire._

"Hawkeye!" I felt and hand grip my arm and my eyes flew open, mid-scream. I shot up, and collided with someone leaning over me. It was him, my father's student. My eyes widened and I yelped. But then, I felt a soreness on the back of my head, and I knew where I was. I took several deep breaths, trying to slow my heart back to a normal pace. The buildings outside the window were outlined with blue, meaning dawn would be in less than an hour.

"Are you all right?" He was rubbing his shoulder, where my head had slammed into it.

I closed my eyes briefly, but the image of the flaming woman was still branded onto my eyelids, so I quickly opened them. "Yes, sir. It was just a dream."

He scoffed. "Isn't it always?" He sat down in a chair he'd pulled up next to my bed. "We make quite a team."

I smiled weakly. It was only a few hours ago that our situations were reversed. "Did I say anything?" He knew some of what my dream was about, but there were parts I wanted to keep to myself, for his sake.

He shook his head. "You were calling for your mom. That's when I came in. But you didn't say anything."

Thank goodness for that. "Did I wake you?" Hopefully, he'd fallen back to sleep after I left.

"No, I was reading over some old reports. I hadn't been able to go back to bed." He smirked. "Both of us in one night. It's been a while since that happened."

I smiled wryly back, pushing the blankets off to sit on the edge of my bed. "Yes, it has." I stood up, stretching. "It's too late to go back to sleep, now, sir. Would you like something to drink?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You just woke up screaming. Sit." He pointed at my bed, which he was still sitting in front of.

I narrowed my eyes. "Sir, you know what I was dreaming about."

"That's true." He shrugged nonchalantly. "But I don't know why you were terrified of me when you woke up." His face didn't change, he didn't even look at me.

Like Hell I was ever going to tell him that bit. "I didn't recognize you, sir."

"You're lying, colonel. You weren't as scared until you saw me. I saw your face change." He gestured to the bed again, and I crossed my arms.

"No, sir. Equivalent exchange. Now, would you like something to drink?"

"What? Oh, forget the drink. What about equivalent exchange?"

It was my turn to shrug. "I will tell you about my dream when you tell me about yours. I think I'll make some coffee." I walked out into the kitchen. The scuff of the chair against the floor and footsteps told me that I had won that round.

For several minutes, as I fiddled with the coffee pot, we were silent. Then, the fuhrer said, "Umm, colonel, I wanted to apologize for, uh, what I did. Last night. I was completely out of line."

His words reddened my cheeks, like an idiot. "I'm not going to say that it's all right, but I forgive you." His answering sigh was long and weighted. It brought that question back into my head, and I tried to force it down. I really didn't want to know if I was right. But I was concerned about it in general. "Sir?" I began.

"Yes?" His tone seemed expecting, like he was nervous about what I was about to say.

"When you have dreams like that, and there isn't anyone around, what do you do?"

I could sense him tense up, like he had some secret about that he didn't want anyone else to know. I turned around to face him, and his face was red. "Well, I, uh, think about, um, things that people have said to me, and that, uh, helps me calm down."

Obviously he was lying, but I wasn't going to push it if it embarrassed him that much. If I was right, then I didn't need for things to be more awkward than they already were. I sat down at the little table, and he did the same, face still red.

"Last night, you said that I wasn't helping." I wondered if maybe I'd never helped him with his nightmares, that he'd always just played along with me so that I would feel better.

His head shot up and the color drained from his face. "No! I meant that … ugh" His shoulders slumped again, and he gave me a tired, goofy grin. "I just keep putting my foot in my mouth around you today." His grin left as he said, "That dream, that memory, it's my worst memory of Ishval, and I just didn't want to deal with it. I've blocked it out, for the most part, but it comes back in dreams. I've only dreamt about it three times: the first, in Ishval with Hughes, then in Central, alone, and now, last night."

I couldn't imagine him screaming like that, waking up alone in his old apartment. I never wanted him to wake up alone with those memories. I vowed that I would never let him wake up to that alone, ever again. When the time came for him to vacate the fuhrer's residence, I'd make sure we lived next door to each other, so that I'd be there when he woke up.

* * *

I told you I'd ship it. The next chapter will include more familiar characters, and I swear I'll get to plot eventually. Once Roy and Riza stop forcing me to ship them.

If the next chapter comes out in the next week, you all have permission to yell obscenities at me.


	10. Scald

**Author's Note:** So ... hehe, here's another chapter. This one actually has plot! Thanks to Sweet Genocide and Cap'nHoozits for the reviews, and to forgottencharacter for the plot suggestions which have come to some of their fruition here!

From here on out, the vast majority of Ishvallan culture will be based on Somali culture.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Dr. Marcoh had tried to sink back into the corner of Ishval he'd been hiding in for the past few years, but Colonel Miles would have none of that. At first, there was quite a bit of resentment on both sides. Marcoh wanted nothing to do with the military, and Miles couldn't understand why Marcoh would refuse to help his countrymen. Somehow, they dragged me into their conflicts, both pleading with me to convince the other of their case. The issue with the water had not yet been resolved, making it worse. The source in East City was checked, over and over, but they found no impurities in the water. The tank was thoroughly examined, but it was clean. A creeping suspicion rose in my mind that it was foul play. I tried to dismiss it; there was no need to jump to the worst conclusion. I wasn't the only one who felt that way. Osman made his opinion quite clear when he learned of the water.

"It's the damn Amestrians! They're trying to poison us!" Luckily, most people ignored him. What worried me was that he did bring up the idea that it wasn't an accident.

Cemal tried to take our minds off of it in his usual, jovial manner. He entertained us with stories from his time as a novice, before the war. The other monks and myself occasionally had to correct him on a few details - "I doubt she breathed fire, malim" - and he succeeded in sufficiently distracting us so that we continued working with renewed vigor.

The boys took to following me around. I didn't particularly mind; they were hard-workers. In fact, if they hadn't been at the worksite in Lejia, we would have been in a tough spot. A young man, no more than twenty years old, had begun scaling the scaffolding to reach the roof of the gathering house we were working on. None of the adults noticed anything amiss, but Yasef cried out and pointed at the base of the scaffold. The rest of us stopped and checked where he was pointing. One of the corner poles had come loose from its base, and was shaking under the weight of the man. We quickly recalled him back down, and luckily, he hadn't reached the top. He jumped down. The sudden release of weight caused the pole to come loose entirely and it fell to the ground. The whole scaffold leaned dangerously over. Vedran hurried to pick up the pole. I took it from him and placed it back where it was supposed to be. I noticed no fractures in the structure that would cause it to come apart like that. And the pole fit so snugly back in that I didn't understand how it came undone in the first place. This was the third near miss we'd had since the water, less than a week ago. It was getting harder to push the suspicions out of my head.

That evening, I sat down to a meal with Agniya, Suraya, Vedran, Yasef, and Mida. Mida and Suraya were cousins, and good friends before the war. She told me that she spent most of her time with their family. Many families were torn apart, most not finding each other again. Those that didn't die in the war were lucky to survive the slums of Amestris or the unforgiving desert. Cemal, my second cousin once removed's betrothed's brother was the closest thing I had to family. Kimblee had seen to that. But that was just as well. It meant that few people knew me from the time before.

Agniya passed me a plate with what appeared to be the Amestrian bread called popovers. "I altered it a bit, but they make excellent side dishes." she explained. I enjoyed the meal immensely. Most of my meals were eaten alone, with the odd visit from my master, Cemal, or Mida. As much as I was truly an Ishvallan again, many of my people maintained distance from me. But I was content with that. After all, how could I ever let myself become one of them, entirely, after what I'd done? Only my master knew the details, and I was sure that if others learned about my transgressions, I would be cast out again. However, sitting down with a family, even one that was not my own, was nice.

"Guess what happened today!" Yasef proudly smiled at Suraya.

She put on the smile of a mother with a talkative child. "What?"

"I saved a man!" I was startled. The last thing I wanted to do was bring up today's incident with Mida in the room. The worry in her eyes when she heard of the other incidents was enough to make anyone take pause.

Agniya's eyes lit up. "You did?" Mida glanced at me, somehow able to sense my uneasiness.

Yasef nodded. "The building ladder thing was broken, and I helped fix it!" Vedran smiled warmly at his brother, just as proud of Yasef as he was. Suraya's smile dropped and she turned to me.

"That's the third time this week." I nodded in response. "Are they really coincidences?" Yasef looked confused. He was ready for the praise of his acts, and instead he had made his aunt worry.

"There's nothing to say that they aren't." I said. Suraya grit her teeth, obviously wanting to discuss it further. But she smiled down at Yasef, dispelling the tension in the room. Suraya was known for being able to manipulate the emotions of a situation.

The evening passed without further consequence, and Yasef grew irritable. Agniya apologized for him, explaining that he always got like that when he was tired. Mida smiled at her, and I suddenly felt as if I was suffering from a strange form of indigestion.

"That's completely understandable. We should go, and let you all wind down." Mida turned to me. "Come on, Kaliq. We can walk together." Agniya raised her eyebrows at me, for some unknown reason.

I returned Mida's smile. "If you insist. Thank you for the meal, Agniya." I nodded to our hosts, who bowed their heads to me in return.

"You are always welcome here. Vedran and Yasef enjoy your company." Vedran looked away as Agniya spoke, so I couldn't tell if her words were true. But I had gotten attached to them, to their determined spirits.

Mida and I walked out into the air, which was cooling considerably from the day. We had traveled to the next road before she spoke. "There was another problem today?" Her voice was troubled, and I couldn't make out her face in the dim light.

I hesitated to answer her. I didn't want anything to tarnish her smile. "It was minor. The scaffolding probably just wore out from use. We fixed it without any problems, thanks to Yasef, so there's no reason to worry."

We had just rounded to corner to the road where Mida lived when we heard a voice calling out, "Kaliq!" Turning to the sound, I saw Osman limping quickly toward us, clutching his shoulder. "It's the Amestrians, like I told everyone! They messed with the scaffolding, the water, the plaster-" his voice cut off as he hissed in pain.

I rushed to him, Mida following close behind. Up close, I could see something dark on his _maawis_, probably blood. Mida gasped. "Osman, we need to get you to a doctor." I spoke calmly. Osman was probably in shock from his injuries, and didn't need any further excitement. His words were somewhat distressing, given his physical state, but his health was a more immediate concern.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The next day, and the days that followed, were unexpectedly strained. I reported in to work as usual, to find that Fuhrer Mustang was unable to look at me. The others, while they had returned to Central, with the exception of Lt. Falman, no longer worked as closely with the fuhrer as they had in Ishval. The new position required a different sort of work, and therefore, a different skill set in its subordinates. We all ate together, in the private dining room of the fuhrer, but no one seemed to notice the tension that was growing between him and me. I shrugged it off as best I could, examining my appearance in the mirror. My hair was beginning to get a little shaggy, and my bangs were tickling my eyebrows. I'd need a haircut soon.

A few days later, I walked into my usual salon. I hadn't been there since we'd left for Ishval, and the hairdressers greeted me warmly with shouts as I entered. I went to sit in the waiting area, and froze. This place was suddenly becoming a little too nostalgic.

Mrs. Bradley waved at me. "Hello, Col. Hawkeye. It's good to see you again." I smiled awkwardly. I would have returned the sentiment if it weren't for the person sitting next to her. Seeing my reaction, Mrs. Bradley sighed knowingly. "Selim, dear, this is Col. Hawkeye. She used to work for your father." Selim looked at me with big, sincere eyes. To me, Mrs. Bradley said, "It's all right, you know. He hasn't shown any signs."

I had known, of course, that Mrs. Bradley was raising the homunculus as her son. When Fuhrer Grumman had mentioned it to Mustang, I thought he'd fall out of his chair. Admittedly, I had been adamantly opposed to this. But looking at the boy now, I couldn't sense any of the animosity I had previously felt coming from him.

I smiled weakly. "It's nice to meet you, Selim." The boy said nothing, leaning into his mother's arm.

"He's a little shy of strangers. Why don't you sit down?" I sat down on the other side of her. I could see no reason to feel anything negative toward the child, but I was not about to sit next to him. I still remembered the constant fear he had instilled in me. Living like that for as long as I did was torturous. I came so close to breaking down so many times because of him.

"How have you two been doing?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. Mrs. Bradley, being the astute woman she was, no doubt picked up on my apprehension.

"We've been fine. Selim is about to start school, and he's very excited about it. I've been keeping busy, between him and my book."

"Your book?"

"Yes. I'm writing about what it was like as the fuhrer's wife. My editor seems very interested in a different perspective of my husband and the military. Of course, some things will have to be left out." She pet Selim's hair, who was still clinging to her side. A few moments later, she and Selim were called back.

We had never gotten a straight answer out of her, whether or not she knew about her husband's true identity. We'd never told her, trying to prompt her to say something with directed questions, but she rarely gave a straight answer. I don't know if that was for Selim's sake, or if she remained loyal to her husband no matter what. I admired her greatly. She was stronger than any other woman I'd ever met, but her compassion exceeded her strength. She was the one good part about my former position under Fuhrer Bradley. I'll never forget the look in her eyes when we used her a hostage. She looked at me often, with disbelief and grief. That was one of the most difficult things that happened during that time, possibly more difficult than being nearly killed to get to my commanding officer. I hadn't had the chance to talk with her since then, and I'd been secretly worried about her opinion of me. It wasn't until I'd lost her good opinion that I realized how much I wanted her approval. And here she was, after all of that, smiling and talking pleasantly with me. Even if it was marred by the presence of Selim, I felt relieved.

"We're ready for you." I looked up at the friendly woman with an apron. I twirled the end of a lock of my hair around my fingers for the last time. I was ready for a change.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Dr. Kohl straightened after putting the final bandage on Osman's shoulders. "He'll be fine. Don't bother him for too long, though." The short man walked out, leaving me, Col. Miles, and Osman's sister. She sat in a chair next to the bed, hands clasped in her lap. Miles removed his glasses to speak with him.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

Osman grimaced. He'd never gotten along with Miles, always called him a blood traitor for joining the military. "I was going to get a tarp for the house that caved in Wahir, after the workday was over. I passed by one of the other worksites, and I saw several Amestrians in one of the old storage houses. I listened in on them, and they were talking about wetting the stockpile of grain in the main warehouse and replacing some of the scaffolding with straw. One of them was an alchemist, and he showed how he could make straw look like a stronger wood, like what we use in the scaffolding. But it snapped like straw. Then, one of them saw me. I had no choice but to defend myself! They started slashing at me with their knives, which is how I got the cut on my shoulder. But I managed to get one of them pretty good." Osman grinned darkly. "I got his knife away from him and cut pretty deep into his stomach." My eyes widened. A stomach wound was serious, and almost certainly fatal.

Osman had clearly paused for effect, and Miles prodded him. "Go on."

"The alchemist they had with them did some fancy stuff and broke my leg. The other guys ran off, and the alchemist covered their tracks. I guess they thought that in between my shoulder and my leg, I wouldn't be bothering them again. Of course, I did give them that impression."

"How many of them were there?" Miles pulled out a little notebook from his pocket.

"Four, including the guy I hurt and the alchemist."

My eyebrows furrowed. "That's not many."

Osman shook his head. "But the alchemist was talking like he had orders from someone else."

"The man you injured, did they take him with them?" Osman nodded. "What did they look like?"

"I don't know, Amestrian! It's hard to tell them apart!"

I crossed my arms. "Try."

Osman threw me a glare as he said, "One of them was wearing a military uniform. He was blond. The alchemist had glasses and a shaggy beard. The other two had dark hair."

"Can you remember anything about their sizes? Particularly the soldier?"

"They were normal sized? It's hard to tell when they're slashing at you with knives." After a moment, he added, "I think one of them might have been a woman with short hair, the one I didn't hurt." Osman's patience was growing thin, as was mine. Miles seemed unfazed, though, as always.

"All right, Osman, we're done for now. But I'll be back tomorrow with more questions. Keep trying to remember what they looked like." Miles waved for me to follow him out.

I asked, "So, do you think it's simple vandalism?"

Miles stared straight ahead. "Organized vandalism against the state is terrorism."

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Col. Miles' report was truly upsetting. While the people behind it had done nothing more than create a few setbacks, now they would meet resistance. They could escalate their attacks into something much more dangerous. Fuhrer Mustang, after receiving the report, asked everyone to clear the room for a few minutes. I waited patiently outside the door as he cursed and flipped something over - hopefully just a chair.

On the way home, I stopped by the grocer for a few things, and I ran into an old friend. A tall, blond, young man was standing in the cooler aisle, a slight smile on his face.

"Alphonse, long time, no see."

The man turned, smile widening. "Lt. Col. Hawkeye! Great to see you again. Your hair looks nice."

"Thank you. I had it cut just a few days ago. How was Xing?" I asked. Alphonse had passed through Ishval on his way to the eastern country, and his excitement then was written all over his new body.

"Xing was … educational." Alphonse ducked his head, like his brother did when he was embarrassed, and I could have sworn his cheeks were a few shades redder.

I raised one eyebrow. "Did you find Mei?" I remembered how the small girl had thrown herself at him when he and Ed returned from the gate. The two were well suited for each other, in my opinion.

Alphonse's smile migrated to the side of his face. "Yeah. I learned a lot about alkahestry from her. But I came back when I got the news from brother."

"What news?"

His eyes widened a bit. "You haven't heard yet? Winry's pregnant!"

My mouth dropped open slightly. I remembered their wedding, two years ago, and Winry mentioned she wanted to start a family, but to hear it was actually happening was something entirely different. "That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Ed's really nervous about it, though. I think Winry's going to strangle him by the time it's all over." He laughed slightly, although he did seem somewhat genuinely concerned for his brother's safety.

"I can just imagine." Little Winry, a mother. Thinking about how much the two of them had grown up, I knew they would make good parents. At one point, I had thought about becoming a mother, but after the war, it just wasn't an option. I was glad that they had that chance.

"So, Lt. Col. Hawkeye, how is being the fuhrer's aide?"

I shrugged. "It's much the same work that I've always done. Perhaps a bit more stressful, but all in all, the work is worthwhile." No need to mention Ishval to Al. Not when he had such happy news.

He nodded. "I can't believe how much has changed. Ed and Winry, married. Mustang's the fuhrer, Ling, emperor, and -" He cut off abruptly and blushed again.

"What is it, Al?" I asked. I had always tried to be there for the boys, in what ways I could. They had been thrust into the life of the military much too young, and I felt they needed someone to lean on.

"N-nothing. It's just that something happened in Xing that I'm not supposed to tell people about yet." Alphonse suddenly became very interested in the yogurt on the shelves, and I knew to drop it. We said our goodbyes, and I picked up what I needed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** All the familiar faces in Central have been met! Well, there's one more, but he's not one that comes in once and isn't really heard from for months. Scar/Kaliq is ridiculously difficult to ship, but I will succeed in this! Things are about to get busy.


	11. Singed

**Author's Note:** This chapter is fairly intense, and there are some injuries and character death, just to warn you. Thanks to Cap'nHoozits and Sweet Genocide, again, for their reviews! I'm basically posting these chapters as I write them, so if there are any mistakes, or something doesn't sound quite right, let me know.

* * *

**Kaliq**

I sat outside the infirmary, hunched over, trying to remember how this happened. It was my fault, that much was obvious. But how could I let something like this happen, of all people, to_ her_?

That morning, I'd set out to work, like any other. I let Toby outside, to run around to his heart's content. I knew he'd come back in when I came home, but there was no point in keeping him cooped up in my house all day. Cemal waved at me as we headed separate ways; him to the main temple in Kanda, me to the residential district of Lejia. I passed Mida's house, subtly glancing over to see her leaving to go to the gathering house. She saw me looking and smiled. My muscles tensed up and I tried to raise my hand in greeting, but somehow managed to drop the bag I was carrying.

She laughed a little and came over to help me. "Good morning, Kaliq." I acknowledged her with a nod, unable to say anything. I was too humiliated, as evidenced by the sudden warmth in my cheeks. Kneeling down, I retrieved my bag and began collecting my tools. She knelt down beside me. "Here. You hold the bag open and I'll put the tools in." I followed her orders, watching the back of her head as she moved. Her soft - I assumed it was soft - hair was in a neat braid, today, and she usually wore it down. I closed my eyes briefly, pondering over why I noticed that.

With all the tools back in the bag, we stood up. I could see Suraya walking toward us, no doubt coming to walk with Mida. "Thank you." I said, smiling slightly at her. Mida seemed surprised, and her smile was so much wider than mine. _Ishvalla, help me understand your ways._ I prayed as I watched them walk away. Mida, with her gentle eyes, her genuine smiles, her strong and tender hands - she was truly a gift from Ishvala.

At the work site, Vedran and Yasef were waiting for me. Most of the day passed by with no major issues. We checked the whole site thoroughly, making sure all the scaffolding was secure, the materials were durable, and the tools were all accounted for. After Osman's discovery, we weren't taking any chances. It was shortly after our meal break that we heard a far-off thud and Vedran shouted. Looking back in the direction of the sound, we could see smoke rising from the center of Kanda.

My heart stopped and the whole crew dropped what they were doing. Two of the other workers lived there, and they had families who stayed behind. Vedran charged ahead of us, calling out for his aunts. A round face with a neat braid flashed in front of me, and I almost tripped. After several minutes, we could hear screaming, orders being shouted over the sound of burning, collapsing buildings. Vedran and Yasef cried out in joy when they ran to Agniya, who stooped down to embrace them. Tears stained her cheeks as she held onto them tightly. Too tightly.

An Amestrian soldier was helping a man slightly older than me limp away. I stepped beside him. "What happened?"

His terrified eyes met mine, and I realized just how young this soldier was. This was probably his first post. "A-a man, he walked into the gathering house, and it just … blew up."

The gathering house. That's where Suraya and …_ Ishvalla, please no_. I turned back to watch Agniya as she clung to the boys. I approached them, resting my hand lightly on her shoulder. She looked up to me and loosened her arms. The boys stumbled back a bit, bumping into me. They didn't seem to understand why their aunt had hugged them like that.

"Agniya, were they still inside?" Agniya's eyes lowered. That wasn't good enough. "Please, you have to tell me. We can still find them. Were they inside?" She nodded, and my whole body suddenly felt heavier than it ever had, even when I felt the weight of the deaths I had caused.

I looked at the gathering house, or what was left of it, and desperation consumed me. The flames around that building, I had only seen flames that destructive during the war, and I knew there was no getting anyone else out. But somehow, I had to. I took off my sash and put it in Vedran's hands. No need to have loose fabric in a burning building. I hurried to the building, trying to steel myself against the heat as I drew near. I had reached the door, which had collapsed in a pile on the ground, when I heard her.

"Stop! STOP!" Her voice was raspy, followed by intense hacking, but I turned to find her. She was lying on the ground, on her side, under a fallen beam, which had split in two over her body. Her _direh_ was singed badly, and blistering, red skin was visible in the places the clothing had fallen away. She was lying on her side, and one of her arms seemed to be twisted painfully underneath her.

Rushing to her, I called out to a soldier nearby. Together, we lifted the wood, which crumbled in our hands, and freed her body. As the weight left her, she cried out again. Where the beam once had been, her body was crushed. I couldn't do anything but stare. I'd seen much worse than this, but it was her, the kindest person I'd ever met.

"Kaliq," she choked out, forcing my eyes away from her injuries to her face. Her eyes were filled with warmth, despite her current state. I knew what she wanted to say. She didn't want me to despair over her. She was trying to comfort someone else while she was suffering so much.

Luckily, the soldier was in more control than I was. He called for a doctor, and Mida was soon carried away on a stretcher. I went to follow her, but stopped. What right did I have to be with her now? I wasn't her family, and even if she did call me her friend, so many others were closer to her than me. I stopped, watching her, and prayed. _Please, Ishvalla, please. Protect your daughter, Mida, and ease her suffering_. I turned back to the scene, knowing that I could be of more use here.

Eventually, we did find Suraya, but she was even worse than Mida. A chunk of her leg was missing, and her left arm was withered from burns. Her hair, which had always been pulled back into a tight ponytail, was smoldering, and she had a large gash on the side of her head. She had survived, but there was no telling how long she would last with her injuries. Agniya ran over to her, as she was placed on a stretcher, wailing. I held her as she cried, reaching out to her wife. When Suraya was carried off, I took Agniya by the shoulders.

"They're taking her to the infirmary. They'll help her there. She needs you to stay calm and think clearly." I stared firmly at Agniya, speaking calmly but intensely. She seemed scared of me, at first, but nodded.

"Can you take care of them?" she asked, barely above a whisper, turning her head slightly behind her, to where the boys were standing, holding onto each other.

"Yes. Go with Suraya." I dropped my hands and let Agniya follow her wife. She seemed less frantic now, and stopped in front of Vedran and Yasef.

"I'm going with Aunt Suraya. Kaliq will stay with you, okay?" I was surprised to see that she managed a smile.

Vedran nodded, his eyes wide, and Yasef clung to his brother's arm like he was afraid he would get hurt, as well. I put my hand on Yasef's shoulder and knelt down in front of them. "Let's go back to my house, for now." Agniya thanked me with a smile and a nod and walked quickly toward the army headquarters. I placed my hand on Vedran's shoulder as we left the scene. Obviously, the older boy was in shock, unable to process what had just happened. He didn't even seem to notice the pull from his brother's hand.

We waited in my house for several hours, and Cemal came by. He brought a_ jar_ board with him, which sufficiently distracted the boys. I watched them play, wondering why we hadn't heard from the infirmary yet. When Kammani came, her face grave, I knew. I went outside with her, not wanting the boys to hear it just yet.

"Suraya passed. She's with Ishvalla now." The older woman bowed her head, whispering, "_Ramat Ishvalla Aliyaq._" For a moment, we were silent, in reverence to the dead.

Kammani was the first to break the silence. "If you wish to visit them, I can stay with the boys until Agniya comes for them." She smiled sadly.

I thanked her, and explained to my other visitors that I was leaving for an hour or two, and that Kammani would take care of them. Cemal stayed as well, continuing his game. I tried to keep a steady pace as I headed for the infirmary, but my emotions betrayed me as my feet hastened. The smell of smoke filled the air, even though the fire had been put out some time ago. I doubt that smell would dissipate anytime soon.

In the infirmary, many people crowded the main waiting room, desperate to hear news of their loved ones. Some were sitting, some were crying, but all were strangely quiet. Several soldiers were stationed around the room, with clipboards in their hands. The one who had helped me with Mida was there, and I approached him. He told me where Suraya was, and where Mida was. My first duty was to find Agniya, and I did. She was sitting in a chair next to Suraya's bed, and her head rested on the mattress. Her eyes were open, staring at Suraya's hand, which was clasped between her own. No one wanted to disturb them. I decided to go to Mida's room, which was just a few doors down. She was sharing the room with four others, none of whom were as badly injured. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment, I was so afraid. But then, as I moved closer to her, her eyes opened, and she smiled. It was then, and only then, that I felt something wet on my face.

She lifted her head slightly, her smile turning into slight, gentle frown, and looked to the chair next to her, silently asking me to sit. I did, and she moved her arm, the one not in a sling, so that I would reach up and take it. "It's all right, Kaliq." she murmured, her smile marred by occasional twitches that gave away her pain. Why was she doing this? Why was she reaching out to me when she was the one who was hurting? I bowed my head, ashamed that she felt like she needed to comfort me.

I cleared my eyes and looked back at her, knowing that I couldn't let her feel any obligation to help me. "How are you?"

She sighed, which turned into a short cough. Her face contorted in pain, and I leaned in, ready to act if necessary. But it passed, and she looked back at me. "My arm and legs are broken, and my spine is bruised pretty badly. They set my legs, but haven't had time for my arm, yet." She looked particularly troubled, and opened her mouth, only to close it again.

"What is it?" I asked, worried that she had not told the doctors about something, because she didn't want to trouble them.

She looked down. "Did they find Suraya?"

She was terrified, it showed all over her face. "Yes." I didn't know if I should tell her.

"Is she - how is she?"

I hesitated, just long enough for her eyes to widen and tears to form. "When they found her, she was badly hurt. I haven't been to see her, yet."

She nodded slowly. "Can you check on her for me?" Part of me thought she had figured it out, but I couldn't say anything to her. I nodded and stood up.

"I'll be back in a few minutes."

She smiled and dropped my hand. "Thank you, Kaliq, for everything."

* * *

**Hawkeye**

When Lt. Fuery walked into my office, personally, I knew something was up. His hands were shaking as he handed me a slip of paper. It was a telegram, marked urgent, for the Fuhrer. It read, EXPLOSION IN KANDA -(STOP)- UNKNOWN CASUALTIES -(STOP)- POSSIBLE TERRORIST CELL INVOLVED -(STOP)- REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE -(STOP)- FROM THE OFFICE OF COLONEL MILES -(STOP)-

I thanked Fuery for his prompt and personal delivery, and knocked on the fuhrer's door. When he responded, I walked in, Fuery behind me. "Sir, there's a message for you from Col. Miles. It's urgent."

His expression immediately sharpened and he frowned. "Come in and close the door." Fuery closed the wooden doors and we both approached his desk. I handed him the paper, and he looked as though he'd been slugged in the gut. Quietly, but vehemently, he asked, "Why the hell didn't he call?" He snapped his attention back to us. "Lt. Col., clear my schedule for the rest of the day. We need to deal with this as soon as possible. Fuery, try to get in touch with the headquarters in Ishval. I don't care if you have to talk to a cadet, get me details."

"Sir!" We both briskly saluted him and promptly left the room. My heart was pounding with a sense of responsibility. It was vital that we responded to this promptly, as this not only struck a little too close to home, but it was Fuhrer Mustang's first major challenge.

Looking at his calendar, determining who I needed to contact, I couldn't help but notice the hearing in parliament tomorrow. He couldn't afford to postpone that, but he couldn't put off the situation in Ishval. I knew he was probably cursing himself for not acting sooner, when we'd gotten the first report from Miles last week. But then, it had just been some minor stumbling blocks, not this.

Fuery returned within the hour, looking even more frightened than he had before. My heart sank when I saw his face. Again, I knocked on the office door and he called us in.

"What've you got, Fuery?" he asked as soon as we walked in. I closed the doors behind me, wary of someone listening in. If this was terrorism, we needed to tighten up security.

Fuery saluted, and spoke with more stability than his face exhibited. "I spoke with a Sgt. Akkerman, who said that the gathering house in Kanda had exploded. They have yet to find a cause, and so far, thirty-seven casualties have been reported. They have confirmed four deaths, but they expect to find more bodies as they continue to search the site."

"The gathering house. That was where they held school, right?" The fuhrer turned to me for a response.

"Yes, sir. They had begun lessons a little less than two years ago." I reported the facts, but I wasn't able to get the faces of the children I had met out of my head. He must have felt the same way, as he rested his head in his hands.

"Get me Havoc." he said, through gritted teeth. I saluted and left the room. Fuery stayed behind, waiting for his next orders.

At my desk, I picked up the in-office phone and dialed the extension for the Logistics Innovation Agency. The receptionist put me through to Captain Havoc, and he answered with his usual, laidback tone.

"Hey, Hawkeye."

"Havoc, there's a situation which requires your immediate attention. Come to the Fuhrer's office as soon as you can."

"Geez, what's going on?" I could almost see him straightening up in his chair.

"I can't tell you right now. Just get up here."

"Okay. I'm on my way." He hung up, and I set the phone down with a sigh. How had we let this tragedy happen? We had just left Ishval, and now, - I closed my eyes for a moment, my mind racing over all the possibilities, and all that we had to do. Someone knocked on the door, and then Havoc's face popped around the corner.

I smiled wearily at him. "He's waiting for you." He nodded and walked into the office. After a minute, I heard the fuhrer call me.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, standing in the doorway.

"I want you in on this, as well. Havoc will be heading a task force to investigate the recent incidents in Ishval, particularly the destruction of the Kanda gathering house. We are going to work with him to select the other members of this team, and I want them on an express train tomorrow morning. Can you arrange that?" His eyes were angry, but in a way that reassured me.

"Of course, sir. How many people will the team consist of?"

He looked to Havoc. The two of them seemed to be conferring in their own heads before Havoc spoke up. "Eight, other than myself. The forces in Ishval will fill in as needed."

Fuhrer Mustang nodded. "Lt. Fuery?"

"Yes, sir?" The younger man asked.

"I want you to personally control the information about this. Any information about this must be contained and distributed carefully. We don't want anything sensitive leaked to the public. You're dismissed." Fuery saluted and left promptly. "Capt. Havoc, work with Lt. Col. Hawkeye to get a list of soldiers suitable for the job. Lt. Col., make sure they have no previous connections to Ishval. We need fresh eyes."

"Sir!" We left him scribbling notes to himself, no doubt trying to put pieces together from his memories of Ishval and whatever other information Fuery had given him. Havoc and I spent several hours poring over personnel records, trying to determine the soldiers best suited for investigation, and then crossing out anyone who'd ever served in Ishval. Once we had a list of people, I called the train station, to arrange for a special train to Ishval, using the route reserved for military transport. Havoc contacted the soldiers we'd selected, pulling more than one off of an ongoing case.

My mind drifted back to the parliament hearing. Tomorrow was the day we started putting our plans into action. I wondered what he would do. His office door opened and he walked out. His mouth was set in a grimace, and his eyes were dull with anger and guilt. I could tell he was struggling to remain in Central, instead of rushing to Ishval to help.

"Lt. Col. Hawkeye, I need to speak with you about the rest of this week." I stood up from my desk and followed him back into his office, leaving Havoc in mine.

Once I had closed the doors, his shoulders slumped. I was a little surprised, considering how strained things had been between us for the past few weeks. But then, the children's faces came into my head again, and my breath caught.

Without turning to face me, he said, "I hate this, but I need to go through with the hearing tomorrow." I said nothing, in silent agreement. He growled slightly. "I never thought being fuhrer would make me so weak! I can't do anything for Ishval!"

I looked down at the insignia on the carpet, the seal of Amestris. "Sir, you are helping Ishval. You're sending Havoc down there to help. You're promoting their case here. And you've already done so much for them."

"But I'm stuck here, dammit!" He swung his fist against the wall with a resounding thud. I stepped toward him, knowing he needed to grieve. As I opened my mouth, not sure exactly what I was going to say, he turned around. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet. I was shocked into silence. I'd only seen him cry twice before, the first time in Ishval, when he granted my wish, and the second time when Hughes was murdered. He closed his eyes. "I hate being useless."

I placed my hand on his arm. "You aren't useless, sir. Not to me." I smiled at him, trying to help him understand just how much he'd done for his country.

He returned my smile, in an attempt to reassure me that he was all right. He failed, as I could still see the desperation in his eyes, but it was a nice gesture. I dropped my hand as he took a deep breath to steady himself. "Thank you." He straightened his jacket and walked back to his desk. "Now, we need to prepare for the hearing tomorrow, if you don't mind staying overtime."

"Of course not, sir." I answered, sitting in a chair across from him. If he was going to propose the dismantling of the state alchemist program, we needed to be absolutely focused.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Phew, that was intense. The game that Cemal brought to Kaliq's house is Shax, which is a popular game in the Middle East. The phrase "_Ramat Ishvalla Aliyaq_" is based on the Arabic equivalent of "Rest in Peace". Suraya was very different from characters I've written before, and I honestly wasn't intending for her to die until it happened. But that's the way it goes.

The next few chapters will be almost a role reversal between my two speakers. Kaliq will be more personal, while Hawkeye will deal more with advancing the plot. They'll probably come out sooner rather than later, as my semester is over in three days.


	12. Pyre

**Author's Note:** This update came a little later than usual because of some real life changes. Thanks to Cap'nHoozits, Sweet Genocide, and the guests for their wonderful reviews.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to the memory of Grace Sanicola, who passed away on May 7th, at the age of 94.

* * *

**Kaliq**

_Meramet ve anlasha tam Ishvalla_

_Qardas, Suraya, abahdi iskhrat vermeq_

_Bisha vu karaniq sharmaq ushun bisha_

_Ishiq ber ve bizh sul taf bilerhenez_

My master spoke the prayers over Suraya's body as she lay on the altar, covered with a white cloth. Her body had been washed by Agniya and one of Suraya's relatives, and she had been anointed with adar. Her younger brother and I dug her grave near where the victims of the war had been buried. He couldn't have been more than sixteen. He was probably accustomed to burying his siblings, or so his expression read. Neither of us spoke as we completed our task, and we helped Agniya place her body in the ground.

Agniya had not spoken a word since Suraya was pronounced dead, as was our custom. She cried silently during the prayers and the burial. I had yet to see Vedran react to his aunt's passing, which worried me a had cried several times, and I had to take him aside to explain to him that it was disrespectful to the dead to let them hear you being upset.

Suraya wasn't the only one killed in the explosion. The sight of many families gathering around, mourning the brutal, sudden loss, brought back many memories, not just for me. I could see the haunted look in many people's eyes during the processions. I could also see the anger, which possibly chilled me more than the attack itself. At the moment, there was only one target for that anger, as we didn't know who was responsible for the attack: the military.

Osman, who was now on crutches, and whose cousin had been injured in the explosion, somehow managed to find the Ishvallans who felt the military's lack of action had led to this. Some of the soldiers had attended the funerals, as they had grown close to the people here. At the end of the last funeral, Osman began beating one of them with his crutch.

"You filthy, self-righteous, fucking dick! This was your fault!" The soldier struggled to grasp the crutch, and the others around didn't know what to do. This was an Ishvallan funeral. If they acted with force to an Ishvallan during this, which so closely resembled earlier times, what would happen? I moved to stop him, but Cemal got there first.

His face was hard and his eyes sharp as he grasped the crutch firmly. "Stop this, Osman. You are disgracing those who have passed." Though Cemal was shorter by several inches, Osman cowed under his glare. But he wasn't done.

"Cemal, how can you defend this Amestrian? It's his people that are doing this to us! His people are the reason we're having these funerals!"

Cemal didn't move or loosen his grip. "That may be, but it wasn't him." He pushed the crutch away, causing Osman to stumble. "The next time I see you using that crutch for anything other than walking, I will make sure you are confined to a hospital bed." Cemal's back was turned to me, so that I couldn't see his expression, but Osman's eyes widened and he tucked his chin under. All of his anger was replaced by fear.

I turned back to the infirmary, where several more tents had been set up to make room for all of the patients. Mida hadn't been able to come to Suraya's burial, but she had been present for the anointing ceremony. She had a similar expression to Vedran, one that had seen so many, too many, loved ones die. Before the ceremony, when she was brought into Suraya's room, all of her attention had been on Agniya, reaching out to her, letting her rest her head on her lap, stroking her hair. Agniya had fallen asleep like that, sitting on the floor, leaning on Mida's legs. The doctors had wanted to move her, to keep the pressure off of Mida's injuries, but Mida's look, stubborn and lifeless, kept them back. Kammani had brought the boys in the morning, after telling them. Yasef came in blubbering, which woke Agniya. She quieted the boy, holding him tightly as they both rested on the floor. Yasef brought me back to the current moment as he pulled on my maawis.

"Kaliq, I'm hungry." His eyes were red. I held out my hand to him, and he took it. Agniya would hold vigil over Suraya's grave for the rest of the day, in fast, and Kammani was with another family, comforting them. Vedran was looking around at the others, watching them cry.

"Vedran, let's go back to my home." I called. He nodded without looking at me, and then turned to follow us.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The hearing wasn't going well. The agenda had been leaked, and several state alchemists were present for the debate. We'd already been there for three hours, and all that we'd managed to do so far was read the proposed bill.

"We provide many forms of support, not just military!" A middle-aged woman waved her arms toward a younger woman sitting in the back. "I'm a doctor! I used alchemy to save this woman's life last month, and that wouldn't have been possible without the resources that are only available to state alchemists!" She was the Stitching Alchemist, Clarice Wetzel, known for her delicate and nimble transmutations. She'd never been on the front lines of any war, and was only called up by the military once, during one of the bloodiest battles of the conflict with Aerugo, and then, she was one of the doctors, nothing more.

The Fuhrer stood up, bringing everyone's attention to him. "Mrs. Wetzel, no one is denying that the resources that come with being a state alchemist are necessary for the furthering of alchemy. However, we are debating whether or not to keep alchemists as a part of the military, which you have not been called to do, other than your medical assistance several years ago. I propose a slight expansion to the bill." I froze. We hadn't talked about anything like this, being too preoccupied with Ishval. I trusted him to the ends of the earth, of course, but he could ruin everything if he wasn't careful. "What if we built a government-funded university, which would have all of the resources previously available to state alchemists? It would be purely for research, and the military would have very little, if any, control over its members."

One of the members of parliament stood up. "Fuhrer Mustang, sir, that is preposterous! The funding for that is beyond our current capacity, considering the colossal reconstruction projects all around the country!"

"With all due respect, Rep. Britten, we do have the funds available for this project, or to at least start it." He looked down to me, and I passed him the budget reports. "If we dissolve the institution of state alchemy, we could reallocate the funding going toward rebuilding three of the laboratories and the national library to the university, as well as a significant part of the stipends going to the current state alchemists. And I believe we'd be able to find several donors for the project." He had that confident smile on his face, a little bold for someone who just spouted a half-assed idea in Parliament. "What do you think about this, Mrs. Wetzel?"

The woman looked flustered, not quite sure what to say. "All of the study materials currently available to state alchemists would be at the university?"

The Fuhrer nodded. "All of them."

She frowned, not liking the fact that she now had to agree with the government. "Then I have no objections to this." She returned to her seat as many of the parliament whispered to each other.

"Speaker Duval," the Fuhrer said, loudly and confidently, "I motion to adjourn for lunch."

Josef Duval called out, "Fuhrer Mustang has motioned to adjourn. Is there a second?"

Someone called out from the floor. "Second!"

"Then we will adjourn and return in one hour to continue this discussion." He brought the gavel down and everyone began to stand up to leave.

I straightened the many papers in my hands. "That was reckless, sir."

He shrugged at me, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. I've been thinking about it for a while, but I wasn't sure about it. I just decided to go for it and see what happened."

I sighed. He'd certainly get the support of the state alchemists, now that they would no longer have to worry about losing their research materials. Being raised by an alchemist, I understood that those mattered more to them than any amount of money.

"Let's try to get in touch with Havoc, see what progress they've made." I followed him out of the hall, both of us walking at a very determined pace.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**Kaliq**

I left Yasef and Vedran in Cemal's care again as I went back to the infirmary. Miles was waiting for me, with Captain Havoc. The blond man lacked his usual laidback attitude.

"Hey, Kaliq." He said when I was close enough.

"Havoc. Miles." I nodded to them. I wondered what Havoc was doing back here, so soon after Mustang returned to Central.

Miles crossed his arms. "You're friends with the women who were inside the building, right?" I nodded.

Havoc spoke. "We need to talk to them, to put together a timeline. Can you introduce us?"

I frowned. I didn't want to put Mida through anything else today, not after burying her younger cousin. "One of them passed away. She was buried this morning."

Surprise flashed across Havoc's face. "I'm sorry to hear that, really."

When I didn't say anything else, Miles cleared his throat. "What about the other one? Is she well enough to talk to us?"

I hesitated, trying to figure out a way to say no. She was well enough, this morning, but I didn't know how she was doing mentally. Havoc must have guessed what I was thinking. "We can come back later, maybe after dinner, but we do need to talk to her. Can you see how she's doing?" Miles shot him an impatient look, obviously wanting this to move along as quickly as possible. I was all for that, but I didn't want to hurt her. I nodded, and they said they'd be back later. As they walked off, I could hear Miles speaking vehemently under his breath to his subordinate.

In Mida's room, there were several other visitors for the other patients, and the room was filled with murmurs and movement. She was alone, and smiled at me when I entered. I smiled back and sat in the folding chair next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think. I can move the toes on my right foot, which the doctors say is a good sign. Marcoh was in here to see me, a few minutes ago."

"He was?" I knew he had been helping the doctors recently, and I'd seen him around.

She nodded. "He was very sweet, and helped with my spine. It doesn't hurt anymore."

I smiled. "That's great news."

She smiled, and looked down. "Have they made any headway with the investigation?"

My smile faded. "Not much. They think an alchemist started the fire, but they haven't been able to figure out who."

She leveled her eyes at me, something heavy resting behind them. "I can help. I saw someone, in the gathering house. An Amestrian I'd never seen before." One of the other visitors had turned to look at us, distracted by the change in Mida's tone.

I took her hand. "Maybe you should wait to tell Miles about this, in a more secure room." Her sudden determination faltered, and she drew her hand back.

Nodding, she answered. "I want to talk to them soon." I felt guilty for turning them away, then. Of course they were right; getting information as soon as possible was of the utmost importance.

I stood up. "I'll go find them." Mida smiled at me as I left, filling me with the warmth of her friendship. I hurried out of the infirmary and back into the streets. Following the roads to the gathering house, I found them kneeling down next to what used to be the door. They were talking about something on the remnants of the frame.

"Miles!" I shouted. Both of them looked up at me, startled. Miles stood up, brushing his hands on his uniform, adjusting his sunglasses as he approached me.

"What is it?"

"The woman at the scene, Mida Nezhem, she wants to talk to you." Miles nodded and waved Havoc over. I led them back to the infirmary, into Mida's room. The other people turned to stare.

Mida smiled and nodded to us. "Col. Miles, I have some information for you."

Miles smiled back. "That's what Kaliq told us. This is Capt. Havoc, the leader of an investigation team from Central. Why don't we take this somewhere more private?" He gestured to a nurse, who came immediately. It was somewhat disconcerting how much a uniform could do. Within minutes, Mida was in a wheelchair, being escorted down the hall to a conference room. She had insisted that I be there, and took my hand, which she hadn't released since. Havoc had raised his eyebrows at me, but I ignored him. She wanted someone familiar with her, that was all.

Once we'd been resettled, Miles took out his notebook. "Start from the very beginning, when you left your house yesterday morning." It was hard to believe it was just yesterday.

Mida closed her eyes, visualizing it. "I spoke to Kaliq, and then Suraya came to walk with me to the gathering house, like she does - did - every morning." Mida opened her eyes, a bit shocked at the change in tense. I squeezed her hand in mine, in support. "We went by our regular route, cutting through the narrow pass between the Kafni's shop and the Dayan's home, and we saw several children entering the gathering house, as usual. We went in, and went to our separate rooms. I was with the younger children, near the front of the building."

"You teach the younger ones?" Havoc interrupted.

She nodded. "I teach them the very basics. There's a lot of singing involved, and drawing. It's more like babysitting than teaching. Suraya had the older kids, and they would learn the more complicated things, those that showed up. Most of the older kids don't come to the lessons, actually. There are about five regulars, and others come on occasion."

"How many children were there yesterday?"

Mida thought. "In my room, there were four. It was early, and some of them come later, as their guardians start their days. I don't know exactly how many were with Suraya."

"And you two were the only adults?"

"Yesterday, no. There was one other, a boy, about fourteen. He has several younger siblings, and he helps out on occasion."

"Was he with you?"

"Yes. His name is Erol Ziv."

"So you, Erol, and four children were in the room. Suraya was in the other room. What happened next?"

Mida looked down, her eyes far away. "I was setting up for the day, letting the children play with a few things. Erol was watching them. I remember hearing the door open, but I thought it was another child. Erol stood, which made me look up. There was an Amestrian man in the hallway, looking around. I thought he might have been a volunteer, but Erol seemed scared. I went to talk to him."

"What did he look like?"

Mida brought her hand to her face. "He was fairly tall, for an Amestrian, maybe a little taller than you." She looked at Havoc. "He had darker hair, and a fairly large nose. He had a laborer's hands."

"Was he in a uniform?" Miles asked.

Mida shook her head. "He was wearing a simple white shirt and brown pants." She opened her mouth to continue but stopped.

Havoc leaned forward. "Any detail you can remember would be helpful, even if you aren't sure."

Mida looked at him. "I think he had a tattoo, on the inside of his hand. I couldn't tell what it was, some sort of symbol. But there was something dark on his skin, there."

"A transmutation circle?"

"No. It wasn't a circle. At least, it didn't look like one. I didn't really get close enough to see it."

Miles jotted it down in his notebook. "Then what?"

"He turned toward me and smiled. Then, Erol yelled from behind me, saying something about his back. I couldn't see it from where I was, but the man suddenly got very angry at Erol. He yelled back at him, something about protecting Amestris from dirty Ishvallans." Havoc sucked in, but I had heard many worse things than that. Mida acknowledged Havoc's reaction with a slight nod, but kept going. "He reached behind him, and I turned back to the children. Erol was trying to get them out of the building through one of the windows. I could hear people moving around in Suraya's room as well. Then, Suraya came down the hall, yelling at the man to get out. I think she recognized him, she and Erol, both."

"So he's been in Ishval before?" Miles asked.

Mida shook her head. "If he has, I've never seen him. I went back into the room, trying to stop Erol from basically shoving the children out the window, and that's when the building exploded. I didn't see what happened."

Havoc leaned forward. "The man was still in the building?"

Mida's head shot up a little straighter. "Probably. There wasn't enough time for him to get out."

Miles and Havoc looked at each other, and Miles put his notebook back in his pocket. "Thank you, Mida. We'll be back to talk to you later, but we need to get back to the scene." They both stood up from their seats, and Miles turned to me. "I know I don't need to tell you this, but don't tell anyone else about this. And if you could try to find Erol for us, I would appreciate it." I nodded, and they both left the room. Mida breathed out loudly into the much less-charged room.

I placed my other hand on top of our clasped hands. "Are you all right?"

She nodded wearily. "I'm fine. I just can't get the image of Erol out of my head."

I didn't like where this was going. "Did you see what happened to him?"

"Not exactly. He was closer to the wall than I was, and I think he may have gotten out of the window before it happened. He just seemed so scared of that man."

I put my hand on Mida's good arm, and she met my eyes. I could see concern, plenty of it, but there was also incredible trust. She trusted me. If only her trust weren't misplaced. I tore my eyes away and withdrew my hands. "I'll go look for Erol. If he was that close to the explosion, he's probably around here somewhere." I stood up and left without looking back at her, afraid of her eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was very difficult to write. Honestly, I wrote more than half of it today, just trying to get it done. So if it seems a little lackluster, that's why. I'm off of my original outline, which means that I'm running blind here (so to speak). I don't know when the next chapter will be out. Also, my internet is now crap, so that'll put a hold on things as well, since all of my stuff is online.


	13. Alight

**Author's Note:** This is slightly shorter than previous chapters, mostly because I'd written what I wanted to write for this part, and I wanted to get it out before too long. Thanks to Cap'nHoozits, as always, for the wonderful review!

MAJOR ROYAI AHEAD

* * *

**Kaliq**

I stopped outside the Gunja gathering house, listening to the voices inside. There was my master, and Kammani, and Cemal. I could also hear Karimi, the head of the Mashra family, Shazad Ismat, a former commander of the Dalihan militia, and Faiza, a scribe from the temple in Wahir, in a somewhat heated discussion. Then, Kammani suddenly opened the door.

"It isn't polite to eavesdrop." She said, a wry smile on her face.

I bowed my head. "My apologies." She stood back and allowed me to enter. Cemal and my master were smiling warmly at me, welcoming me in. The others, who had probably only heard my name before this, seemed less thrilled.

My master spoke first. "Good evening, Kaliq. Come sit down." There was a mat between him and Cemal that had been left empty for me. I moved over to them, but Faiza spoke.

"Forgive me for my interruption, but can you explain why this man is being allowed to join us, Elyakim?" Her tone was hard, as expected of a woman of her age.

Elyakim's smile widened at her. "Certainly, Sister Faiza. Kaliq has shown great character, and many in our community put faith in his judgement. He is the closest of any Ishvallan to not only Colonel Miles, who is the officer currently in charge of the reconstruction of our land, but also Fuhrer Mustang, the most powerful man in the country." I lowered myself onto my knees, rocking back onto my heels when he finished. Faiza grimaced, obviously displeased with my presence, but she said nothing.

"And why should we need someone close to the Amestrian government when our independence is swiftly approaching?" Shazad added his thoughts to the conversation.

"Because Ishval is not independent, yet, Brother." I answered. "And in light of recent events, we may not be ready for independence."

Shazad's eyes flared. "And why is that?"

I bowed my head in respect. "We do not have the infrastructure to be our own country. Central Command had to send an investigation team out here in order for us to successfully locate the culprits. Until we can do such things on our own, we are not ready."

The room was silent, tension evident. I was right, of that I was certain, but I knew it was not a popular argument. No one liked to be reminded that we still needed the Amestrians.

Cemal cleared his throat. "It is those current events that we're here to discuss. Thanks to Capt. Havoc, working with Col. Miles, we know that the people behind the attacks are calling themselves the Wardens of Amestris. Most of them are former soldiers, who fought in the war, and are against the reconstruction for various reasons. Fortunately, their attacks are not linear in terms of their intensity, but we have no idea who their members are, or where they strike from."

Kammani spoke up. "There's also the issue of the rather incensed Ishvallans. They want the Amestrian military to leave entirely, assuming that some of the soldiers are currently enlisted. We don't know if this is true, but as Kaliq said, we still need some assistance. If the angrier part of our community acts against the military, we could have a very difficult situation on our hands. After all, that's how the war started, seventeen years ago."

"So what do we do about it?" Karimi asked. He was very hard to understand, never giving any hint as to what he was thinking. He had a reputation for being fair to a fault, for which many disliked him.

"That's one of the reasons I wanted Kaliq to be with us tonight." My master said. He turned to face me. "I wanted Mida here, as well, but I didn't want to risk her health. The colonel values your opinions, and listens to you. If you explain the situation to him as plainly as possible, he will understand. The two of you can come up with something for the Amestrian side of this. Mida has a way with the Ishvallan community, if you haven't noticed. I've never seen anyone so adept at diffusing conflict." The others nodded. I could just imagine the shade of red Mida's face would turn if she could see the confidence the elders had in her. "She could talk to the leaders of those on the Ishvallan side of the conflict, get them to understand in ways that we cannot."

"Yes, but what if that doesn't work? Or what if Mida gets hurt?" I asked.

My master's eyes softened, if that were possible. "If it doesn't work, we come up with something else. I can't guarantee Mida's safety, but she is not the target of their anger."

I didn't feel particularly reassured, but everyone else seemed to agree with him. The meeting continued for a while, and we discussed many other issues, like the reconstruction of the Kanda gathering house, as well as reinstating the heads of districts. Being a part of these discussions was invigorating in ways I had not thought possible. I was making a difference, speaking for my friends, helping build a future for my people. It felt right, like I was supposed to be here.

At the end of the meeting, Cemal walked back with me. "So, how was it?"

I pondered over his question. "Good."

He chuckled. "You get invited to the elders' discussion, and all you can say about it was that it was good?"

"I enjoyed it." I answered. Cemal laughed again, but didn't ask me about it any further. I wanted to stop at the infirmary before I went home, so we parted there.

Walking down the hallway, I could hear laughter coming from the rooms that I passed. Even during the war, my people's ability to lift their spirits and keep going had always amazed me. I had never been able to do that. First, I would just get angry. Now, I couldn't help but feel sorrow at the destruction. But one look at Mida's smile and the ominous dust clouds in my head would settle.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The bill passed, with the addendum that a public university for alchemists be built. Unfortunately, with that out of the way, there was nothing to distract the fuhrer from the situation in Ishval. About once an hour, he'd come into my office, asking me for an update. And about once an hour, I'd report that there was no update, that investigations take time, that Havoc and his team were doing the best they can, no, he didn't need to send anyone else down there, and there was nothing more he could do. He'd stay later and later in the office, "just in case something happened."

After a week, I'd had enough. He'd stuck his head out of the door of his office, around 8:30 - 8:31 p.m. to be exact. "Lt. Col.-" he started.

I slammed the folder I was working in down on my desk with a sharp crack. "Sir." I closed my eyes for a brief moment before turning my sharpest glare onto him. "No, there has been no news. Yes, I did contact Col. Miles. No, more investigators would only crowd the area and make it more difficult for the investigators currently there. And no, sir, there is nothing more that you can do except _your job_." I took a deep breath and reopened the folder to the last page of paperwork. I clicked my pen and started filling out the first few lines, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, I looked up again, exasperated.

He had that shocked look on his face, one I'd seen very few times before. It was a mixture of apologetic, scared, and confused. His mouth was slightly open, and for a second, I thought he was going to tear up. My eyes widened momentarily before I looked back down at my paperwork. "Forgive me, sir, that was uncalled for." His feet moved toward me, so I continued my apology. "You have been doing your job, and you've been doing it very well. I understand why you're so concerned about Ishval, and I'm sorry for mocking you." He had come to stand right next to my chair, but I was afraid to look up at him. I really shouldn't have said that.

His hand grabbed my arm and pulled me up. It was my turn to be shocked. I only had a moment to look at him before his arms wrapped around me, holding me in a very tight hug. "No," he cleared his throat after the first word was jilted. "I've been unreasonable."

I was glad of the later time as all of the other workers had gone home. I returned his embrace, resting my head on his shoulder. It felt nice, after a particularly trying week, to just be held. We stood like that for quite a while, and I could feel the exhaustion in his arms. Clearly, he hadn't been sleeping properly, but then, neither had I. When I'd learned about what happened to the woman, Kaliq's friend, who we had spoken to just before we left, any possibility of sleep had left.

Finally, the fuhrer pulled back, but kept his hands on my arms. "Tell me, what should I do now?"

He almost never asked me for advice. He knew that I would follow him, no matter what he did, and I've spent the last eleven years of my life learning how to think exactly like him, to predict his every thought. I knew his intentions and plans better than anyone, except himself. "What's next on your list?"

He laughed quietly. "It's our list now, isn't it?" He had that look in his eyes again, the one I hadn't seen since that night Grumman announced him as his successor. But this time, I couldn't find a way out. He had me trapped with those eyes, and my heart was trapped in my throat.

I opened my mouth to begin speaking, but nothing came out. And my mouth was open, bringing forth all kinds of thoughts that I-we couldn't afford. So I leaned forward and lowered my eyes so that they rested on his jacket, leaning in a bit to avoid his eyes. He seemed surprised, but his shoulders softened after a moment. "Sir," I said, my voice quiet. "After abolishing state alchemy, your goal-"

"Our goal." He whispered, pressing his face into my hair. My stomach did funny things when his breath touched the skin on the back of my neck. I hated how he could do this to me. I never lost control, ever, but here I was, clinging to him like a young girl, unable to look at his face, mumbling into his jacket.

I hesitated. "If you say so, sir. After abolishing state alchemy, our goal is to strengthen parliament."

He lifted his chin to rest it on my head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Honestly, it did feel natural, if I weren't on edge the whole time. "Having parliament abolish state alchemy pretty much met both of those. What next?"

I thought back over the many conversations we'd had, well, he'd had with others that I'd been present for, trying to remember. As I got lost in thought, I relaxed into him, forgetting everything except for "Make yourself less important."

"And how can I do that?" His voice rumbled in his chest, against my head. I pulled back to look at him, feeling stronger, now that we were talking about something I felt comfortable with.

"I don't know, sir. You are the most important man to - in Amestris." His eyes still had that look, but it was different. It had a certain level of familiarity, which was far less threatening than the odd craving that used to be there. He smiled crookedly at my statement, guessing at the addition I was making to it in my mind.

"Well," and then he did the strangest thing, considering the circumstances. He blushed. My heart slipped out of my throat and hit my ribcage with a resounding thud. If my internal organs would just stay put, perhaps we could carry on a somewhat civil conversation. "I was thinking about lessening my political importance by making myself a figurehead. Like someone who is socially important, but ineffective in every other way."

I raised my eyebrows. "Socially important, sir?"

He sighed and lowered his head. I suddenly found myself freed from his grasp as he raised his hand to his head and turned around. "Of course, it would be unthinkable to start doing this now, while Ishval is going through all of this, but once that's settled, maybe having some big social event, with a lot of press. And have Parliament do something big at the same time, like coming to terms with Aerugo."

I felt a little empty without his arms around me, and I tried to recover from the loss. "What sort of social event, sir? Like a gala?"

"Yes, a big party would do nicely. And then we could emphasize my reputation some more." He was trying to avoid saying something, which had always irked me. If he had something to say, he should say it.

"And what is your reputation exactly?"

He turned back around to face me, his eyes looking off toward the corner to avoid looking at me. Whatever that meant. "Well, you know. I've been known to, uh, get around."

I raised an eyebrow. "Back when we were in Central, perhaps. But you haven't really been on a date since we moved to Ishval." I thought back to the conversation I'd had with Gracia. The rumors and doubts about him wouldn't be helped if he picked up these old habits. But maybe that was what he wanted.

"Well, in Ishval, I didn't have many options. Most of the Ishvallan women either didn't like me because of what I'd done, or saw me as an old commander in the military. The only other women there, other than the occasional volunteer, were in the military."

I raised my eyebrow again and smiled. "Is that the only reason you stopped dating, sir?"

He seemed unduly shocked by my question, and his mouth dropped open. He just stared at me for a minute. "Lt. Col., are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

I backed off, seeing how I'd completely thrown him off track. "Probably not." When I stopped to think about it, I could think of many reasons why he'd stopped dating, but none of them were cause for me to smile. I knew I had planned on joking with him about ceasing his somewhat womanizing ways because of the certainty of rejection, but as I looked at him, I knew that wasn't true. Who in their right mind would say no to this man? "Forget I said anything, sir."

He stared at me for a few moments longer before shrugging it off. "Is your only concern that I'd be a rusty?"

I shook my head. It was time to tell him what Gracia had said. "I spoke with Mrs. Hughes a few weeks ago. She mentioned to me that your reputation as a ladies' man is somewhat detrimental to your status in the eyes of the general population."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?" He looked off with a surprised frown. "I hadn't heard that."

"Yes, sir. She suggested you find a serious companion, rather than a fling." Then, an idea popped into my head, one that I just couldn't shake. He'd just opened his mouth to respond, when I said, "What about Gracia?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** You have no idea how many times I rewrote that last bit. I almost had him propose to her. Twice. The whole Gracia thing, can you honestly tell me it doesn't make logical sense for them to come to some sort of arrangement? Riza will be arguing this point for me next time, so I'll explain it later, if you don't understand it. Anyway, the council meeting in Ishval was very fun to write, and I hope to include more of them.


	14. Glimmer

**Author's Note: **Happy Royai Day/Week! I wanted to post a chapter in honor of this holiday (with some extra royai, sort of, thrown in). Also some other shipping. Yes, this chapter is ship heavy, just to warn you. Don't worry, plot will happen ... eventually. Thanks to Sweet Genocide for the review!

* * *

**Hawkeye**

"You have one of their bodies?" I asked, glad I could finally give the fuhrer some good news. Havoc had finally made a break in their investigation.

"Yeah, Osman told us about him. He's been dead about a week and a half so the smell is pretty awful. But we found something interesting on the inside of his hand."

"Uh-huh." I opened a notebook to take notes. Every detail was important.

"He has a tattoo, a circle. It looks like a 'W' with a circle around it. I don't know if it's a transmutation circle or not. We're trying to figure that out, but we are having some difficulty with the available alchemists around. Marcoh is impossible to find without help, and Kaliq is reluctant to have anything to do with alchemy. Not to mention that Kaliq isn't as familiar with this kind of stuff. It could just be a symbol of their name, the Wardens."

I scribbled this down. "Kaliq will help you, if you stress its importance. How is the atmosphere down there?"

I could hear him grimacing. "Most of the Ishvallans are just plain scared, but there have been a few people who've been taking it out on us soldiers. Nothing too serious, mostly yelling , sometimes throwing things. If we don't resolve this soon, though, I'm worried things'll escalate."

I sighed and furrowed my brows. If the Ishvallans revolted against the military because of the Wardens, and the military fought back, then the Wardens, Ishvallans, and the military would lose. "Thank you, Havoc. Is there anything else you want to report?"

"Not much else is going on around here. Construction has almost completely stopped, and supplies are in greater demand because of the Warden's sabotage, but you already knew that. How're things going up there?"

"Parliament is meeting to discuss ending the border conflict with Aerugo as we speak. Fuhrer Mustang is there, as a spectator." Mustang had felt it necessary for him to be there, but he hadn't wanted to overshadow the proceedings, so he'd gone undercover, as a civilian. Him with his glasses, hairgel, and blazer was certainly a sight to see.

"And you aren't with him?"

"He wanted me to stay behind to keep up with the Ishval situation. You know how he is."

Havoc laughed. "Yeah. I'm surprised he could tear himself away. I should get back to work. I'll try talking to Kaliq about it, see if he can help us out."

"Thanks again. If the fuhrer doesn't insist I call you, call your report in tomorrow, whenever's convenient."

"Will do, chief."

* * *

**Kaliq**

Mida rolled over to me in her wheelchair. I'd been waiting to hear how her talk with Osman had gone, and from the look on her face, I knew.

"I couldn't do it, Kaliq." she said when she was within hearing distance. Her eyes were red and puffy and her shoulders were slumped. Kammani, who'd been pushing her chair, shook her head at me.

"He wouldn't listen to her, called her a traitor." Kammani grit her teeth. "If I'd been her, I would have lost it."

I lowered my eyes. Mida had been so hopeful when she left, convinced she could talk Osman out of his hatred. I hadn't been as sure, and I'd advised her to not expect too much. Now, seeing how disappointed she was, I wished with all my heart that I had been wrong.

"I need to go talk to Elyakim-_malim_ about this. Kaliq, can I leave her in your care?" Kammani was in a hurry to get away. The elder council needed to come up with a way to deal with what-ifs.

I nodded. Mida spoke up. "He's taken care of me before. We'll be fine." She smiled up at me, her muscles breaking up the tear stains on her face. I marvelled at her strength, to smile in the midst of the tension.

Kammani rushed off and I stepped behind Mida's chair. She reached her hand up and placed it on mine. A rush of adrenaline came from her touch, and almost withdrew my hand. But as much as she put up a front, I knew she needed that touch, so I left my hand there.

"Should I take you back to the infirmary?" I asked.

"Yes, please. I'd like to lie down." I rolled her back, walking in silence. I couldn't say anything to make this better, and it was too serious to try to distract her. In the end, it was she who spoke again.

"What do we do, if it happens again?" She was quiet, scared. She was only fourteen when the war happened - old enough to understand as an adult, but young enough to fear like a child.

"It won't happen again." My voice was steady. "It won't be the same. We've both learned about the other, since the last one. And Fuhrer Mustang won't give an order like Bradley. But if it happens, I will make sure that my family is safe." I won't lose anyone else.

She turned her head slightly, to look back at me. "Your family? You found them?"

I smiled down at her. "In a way. You, Agniya, Vedran, Yousef, Cemal, Elyakim_-malim_. You are my family now." Mida turned back to face forward, and her head tilted down. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I consider you family, as well." We had reached the infirmary. I wheeled her down the hallways, and she would greet people as we went past. They would then smile at me, giving the same warmth to me as they did to her. I was surprised, but smiled back. We needed to stop the Wardens, stop Osman.

Those who still needed to be hospitalized had been given their own rooms, now that most of the victims had been released. Mida's room had many small gifts littering the various flat surfaces. A nurse came and helped me get her into the bed. Mida smiled at the nurse, even though she was obviously in some pain from her back and legs. I waited as the nurse checked her vitals. When he left, Mida waved at me. "Come here." I approached the bed and leaned down to hear what she wanted to tell me. She leaned up and kissed my cheek. I pulled back and looked down at her, completely dumbfounded. "Thank you."

As quickly as the color had left my face, I could feel it rushing back. "There is nothing that you should thank me for."

She smiled, a different smile than I'd seen her give just a minute ago. No, I was just imagining things. "Yes, there is. You've been so helpful, not just to me, but to Agniya, Cemal, and everyone. You always work so hard for others, and you never want any of the credit. You were the one who found me in the rubble and saved my life." I listened to her praise, and I felt ashamed. If only she knew who I really was, what I'd done. "I asked Col. Miles about you. He told me a little bit about your adventures in Amestris." I lowered my eyes, not wanting to know what she thought of me now.

She reached for my hand and grasped it tight. "You saved the entire country. Whatever else you did there, you were the one who beat Bradley. It's pretty obvious that the Amestrians have forgiven you. You rejoined us, came back to us, almost a year ago, now. For the past six years, you've been working as an honest man, rewriting your history. Please, let it go and recognize that you have done amazing things. You are the best man that I know."

With every word she said, I countered it in my head, lowering myself as much as she was raising me. I didn't say anything, but I let her words slip past me, avoiding them.

She dropped my hand. "You needed to hear this, now, before things get any worse. You need to know how important you are in the eyes of your people; how important you are to me." I met her eyes and saw earnest faith. How could she believe all the things she said, knowing what I had done in the name of Ishvalla? I couldn't take it. I fell into a chair, and for the first time in ten years, I cried.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

"No. Lt. Col., I can't believe you're still pushing for this." He leaned back on his desk and pushed a hand through his hair.

"Sir, she's already on her way here to talk about it. The least you can do is meet with her." I was tired of this argument. Ever since I suggested that he start dating Gracia Hughes, only as a publicity stunt, he'd been fighting me on everything, even insisting I stay behind when he left for his other duties. If he'd actually talked to me about why he didn't like the idea rather than avoiding the topic, maybe I'd have listened.

"She knows about this?" He grit his teeth and looked to the side. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low. "You dragged her into this, tricking her into thinking it's a good idea. Well it isn't, and I'm … disgusted that you don't get that."

His tone told me that maybe I'd overstepped by bringing her over to my side. When I mentioned it to her, she was definitely on board, but there seemed to be something going on in Mustang's head that I just didn't see. "I apologize for going behind your back. It won't happen again." I reverted back to protocol and formal language, just like always.

He looked up at me, eyes still angry. "Your apology is much appreciated, Col. Now," he closed his eyes briefly, dumping all of the resentment toward me back into its usual place, to be locked away until a later date. "She's on her way?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let's get ready for our guest." He stood up from his desk and started walking around it. He stopped and turned back. "Is Elicia coming with her?" I could see traces of pain in his eyes. Was the girl why he was so reluctant to go along with this?

"No, sir. Mrs. Hughes said she would be visiting a friend today."

"Does she know about this?"

Gracia hadn't said anything about Elicia to me, except that she wouldn't be coming. "Not that I know of, sir." He nodded absent-mindedly and went back to his desk, shuffling papers around. I left, going back to my own desk to finish up on some paperwork while I waited.

Not five minutes later, someone knocked on the door. "Come in," I said, loud enough for both the visitor and the fuhrer to hear. Lt. Kain Fuery opened the door and gestured for Gracia Hughes to enter.

"Thank you, Lt. Fuery." she said as he saluted and left. She nodded at me. "Lt. Col. Hawkeye, it's nice to see you." She seemed to be studying me for something. I ignored her look as I answered.

"It's nice to see you, too, Mrs. Hughes."

She smiled. "If we're going to be discussing what you talked about, I think you should start calling me Gracia."

I returned her smile. "I guess you're right. Fuhrer Mustang should be waiting for you. I'll go let him know you're here." Her presence was putting me on edge, but I couldn't figure out why. Knocking on the fuhrer's door, I heard him stop moving for a moment before his chair was pushed back.

"Yes?"

I opened the door and stuck my head in. "Gracia Hughes is here to speak with you."

He gave me a weighted look as he said, "Send her in."

I turned back to Gracia and nodded. She placed her hand on my arm as she whispered, "I'd appreciate it if you'd come in with me. You know him better than I do, and we both want the same thing, I think." Despite all the warmth in her tone and demeanor, I suddenly wanted to fail in convincing Mustang to fake a relationship with her. He obviously didn't want it for reasons important enough to him that he thought I would already understand, and there was this nagging feeling that this was wrong. But it was the most reasonable course of action, so I ignored my feelings, which I had become very accustomed to doing, and placed a hand over hers.

He seemed surprised that I came in with her, but wore his fake smile he reserved for family. "Gracia, come in. It's great to see you."

"You too, Roy." She looked around the room briefly. "This is an improvement for you, compared to your previous office, isn't it?"

He laughed. "Yes, quite a bit. Please sit down." He escorted her to one of the chairs facing his desk and then returned to his seat. "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" He was fishing, something he both loved and hated to do. It put all the pressure on the other person, but often left him in a cornered position.

Gracia glanced at me, slightly confused by his question. She'd thought he would be more direct about this. But I knew how childish he could be when he really didn't want something. "I'd heard you were thinking about starting a serious relationship. I'd like to put my name up for consideration." I could almost hear her thinking, 'Ball's in your court, Roy.' I should have know she could handle him. She had been married to Hughes for five years, after all.

"Consideration? It sounds like you're applying for a job." He had turned up the smoothness in his voice, which made me uncomfortable. He was doing badly and he didn't know it.

"I am, in a way. Neither one of us is actually interested in a serious relationship, but it's a beneficial scenario for us. You want to appear more socially invested while retaining respect as a leader, and I wouldn't mind some stability for both me and Elicia." Her bluntness impressed even me. As much as I was starting to dislike my idea, I hoped she'd stick around to keep him humble.

His smooth facade dropped, leaving nothing but honest reluctance. "I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Why not?" The bullets started flying between them. "I'm fully aware of what I'm getting into. You're already a father figure for Elicia, whether or not we go through with this, so if that's the issue you have with this, then there's no basis for your concern."

"That's not it." He could no longer meet her eyes, which almost sent me into full-out guard dog mode.

"Then what? Are you afraid that it'll get exposed? Because I can be a very good actress when I need to be. Being married to Maes gave me a lot of experience in that area. Is it that you don't feel like it's moral to falsify a relationship? I have no problem with that whatsoever."

"It's not that." I could see him beginning to break, just from her presence. And then she just kept pushing and pushing him. I wondered if maybe she was trying to break him.

And then she stopped. "Roy, just tell me why you're so uncomfortable with this, please." He met her eyes again, just for a moment.

"I can't. I need a minute." The worry on her face was genuine, if I took the time to look at her. But I was completely focused on the fuhrer. He was on the verge of tears, again, and it was my fault. He needed me to protect him and I threw him in the line of fire, so to speak.

Gracia nodded. "I'll wait outside. Let me know when you're ready to continue." She stood to leave and I went to follow when she turned and leaned in to whisper to me. "Stay here. He's going to need someone to talk to. He should be ready to talk now." She had intended to break him, but not for her to hear - for me. The smile she gave me was reminiscent of one I used to see on Hughes' face when he'd tease Mustang. The anxious feeling from before suddenly flipped and turned into dread. She left me standing there as she pulled the door closed. I looked back at my superior, who hadn't seemed to notice I was still there. His head was resting on his hands, propped up on his desk. I said nothing, waiting for him. The slightest disturbance and all of Gracia's work would be wasted.

"I can't do it, Hawkeye. I can't go through with it."

He wanted me to say something, but I wasn't as good with people as Gracia. I couldn't make them confess their deepest thoughts. Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to. But he needed to get this out. "Sir?" I kept telling myself to keep it simple, give him just enough to keep going without changing anything.

"It's Hughes." Just those two words were enough to clear the air. I knew in that instant what had been troubling him. It hadn't been about lying to Elicia, or leading Gracia on, or even lying to the people. It had been about honoring his best friend.

I approached his desk, trying to comfort him. "Are you afraid that he would have been upset?" He nodded. "He wouldn't be. His wife is now alone, taking care of his precious daughter by himself. An opportunity arises for you, his best friend, to give them everything he's ever wanted for them. Elicia will have the greatest opportunities he could have ever hoped for her. Gracia will have support in a great friend, someone whom he trusts beyond all others. And they will help you reach your goals, which Brigadier Gen. Hughes had been more than supportive of. He would have wanted this for you, and for her." I knew it was the truth as I spoke it. And if that was what was holding him back, he was wrong.

He looked up at me with such vulnerability that I almost lost myself in him. But I remembered what we were doing, and why, and I stopped before I said something foolish. "Please, sir. This will help you reach your goal."

He gave me a smile to reassure me that he was all right as he answered, "Thank you, Lt. Col. I didn't realize you wanted this so badly."

He was teasing me, and it was working. "If it'll help you, sir, I'd do anything." He raised his eyebrow and smiled, but didn't respond with a comeback my statement had been asking for. We both knew what he could have said, and I blushed.

"Let Gracia back in." I followed his order and brought her back to sit in the same chair at his desk.

"All right, Gracia, but we need to talk ground rules." He had gone back to all-business.

She smiled - smirked? - "I agree." She turned to look at me, almost too deliberately. "If you wouldn't mind, Riza, would you let us discuss this alone?" I suddenly felt very suspicious of what was about to be discussed, but agreed and left. Once back in my office, I had to force myself to leave the door and sit down, trying to keep myself seated, rather than listening at the door. It bugged me more than I expected, that I couldn't hear what they were saying. The possibilities of what they were discussing ate away at me as they sat in there. The first hour passed, and I was able to somewhat distract myself with paperwork. But then I finished the paperwork, and I just waited. The second hour passed, and I started thinking about the other parts of a romantic relationship. They'd certainly been in there long enough. My insides knotted up with anger, surprisingly. Why was I so upset about this? They were two consenting adults who were no doubt feeling lonely and - nope, not going there. All I could see when I thought about it was red. But why?


	15. Cross-Lighting

**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay! It was my birthday last week, and ... no, I don't have a good excuse for this. Thanks to Cap'nHoozits and Moral Support (guest) for the lovely reviews! I'm not planning on dropping this story any time soon; don't worry. Also, I found the plot!

**Warning**: This chapter contains some possibly triggering racially-motivated violence.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Col. Miles' administrative assistant led us back to his office where he was sitting behind his desk, shuffling through papers. He was frowning, his glasses pushed up on his head. The assistant knocked on the door and Miles just nodded, still frowning. I pushed Mida's chair into the room and waited for him to look up.

His expression mellowed when he saw us. "Kaliq, Mida, it's good to see you." He waved at a chair across from him, which I took. "What is this urgent news you mentioned?"

"You know that the Wardens are scaring our people." Miles nodded at Mida. "Several of us are angry, and a few …" she looked down, but continued. "A few blame all Amestrians, particularly the military. They think that if the military wasn't here, the Wardens wouldn't be here, either. And then they think that the military isn't doing enough to stop them, which has escalated into the opinion that the military is on the side of the Wardens."

Miles grimaced. "It doesn't help that one of the Wardens Osman saw before all this started was wearing an Amestrian military uniform."

"No, it doesn't." I answered. "Mida tried to talk to them yesterday, but they ignored her. Osman is leading them, or he at least started it, and you know how he is. The elders met a few days ago, and they expressed concern that they could try to incite a conflict."

Miles' eyes flashed. "They wouldn't. Not after the last war."

"Anger and hatred is a powerful thing. It can take away all reasonable thought and leave nothing but the desire to hurt someone else." Miles lowered his eyelids and nodded, understanding that I spoke from experience.

"How agitated are they?"

Mida replied, "One more thing could send them over the edge."

"How many of them are there?"

"When I met with Osman, I saw about fifty others. There are probably more."

Miles sat back and brought his hand up to his brow. We sat in silence for a few moments while he thought. I knew Miles could handle himself in a conflict, but I wasn't so sure of how he handled preventing conflict. He spoke, "I'm going to contact the Fuhrer's office about this, see what he thinks. Thank you for bringing this to me." We were being dismissed, so I stood to leave.

There was a knock at the door and then the assistant stuck his head in. "Sir, there's been another incident." He glanced at us, clearly disturbed by whatever had just happened, but he was reluctant to say more while we were there.

Miles was putting on his coat as he said, "They're trustworthy. What is it?"

The assistant could not meet anyone's eyes as he answered, "An Ishvallan was lynched."

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Fuhrer Mustang walked in and hung his coat up on the coat hanger next to the door. I gripped my pen tightly, trying not to let concern show on my face. "Any news?" he asked, like he always did when he returned from meetings.

"Yes. Captain Havoc just called." I could hear my voice sounding flatter than usual. His body tensed when he heard me.

"How bad is it?"

I hesitated to answer, wondering just how to start. He didn't need this on his plate, not when we'd finally gotten hope. "The emotional impact of the Wardens' activities seems to have been more severe than we previously thought. According to Kaliq, a troublingly large number of Ishvallans have been organizing with the intent to harm. They blame the military for all of this. Kaliq expressed concern that they might riot, at the very least."

His face shifted from alarm to dread as I spoke. "You talked to Kaliq directly?"

I bowed my head, my own concern for their safety pushing its way forward while I tried to relay the information as clearly as possible. "No, he wasn't available. There was another attack just after Kaliq met with Col. Miles."

"Another attack?!" Mustang's voice rose to a shout. I was a little concerned that the others working in nearby offices would be disturbed by his outburst.

"Yes, sir." I ignored the change in his tone and continued as I had been. "Havoc had yet to go to the scene himself, in order to get the news to us. An Ishvallan was killed, publicly."

His jaw muscles went slack with shock. "Do we have any details?"

I shook my head. "The man who reported the attack used the word 'lynch.'" The word itself left a bitter taste in my mouth. I'd heard of such things happening to Ishvallans in the slums before Ishval was reclaimed, but there hadn't been word of anything like that in a few years. To hear of it now was repugnant.

Mustang's eyes widened and all the fight left him. For a moment, I was afraid he would fall, but he maintained his balance long enough to sit on the vacant desk on the other side of the room. Judging from the look in his eyes, he knew what that meant, intimately. I stood up, taking a cup from the cabinet for some water for him. He accepted it silently, and took a sip. Then, he stared at the water for a moment while I waited for him to speak.

He took another sip before asking, "Did Havoc mention anything about the man they'd interrogated?" In his last report, Havoc had explained that they captured someone they believed to be affiliated with the Wardens. They'd found traces of the Wardens' symbol tattooed on his hand, but he'd denied any knowledge of the group.

"He didn't, sir. He was in a hurry to leave."

"I bet he was." The fuhrer set the cup on the desk and stood up, his presence of mind returning to his eyes. "Stay by the phone until someone reports back from Ishval. If you don't hear anything by 10, call their base. I want more information before I go home tonight."

"Of course, sir. Parliament convenes in ten minutes, if you still want to sit in." He'd been sitting in when he didn't have prior engagements. As much as he wanted to lessen the power of the military, he hated not knowing what was going on.

"Not today." He smiled softly at me. "Thank you for the report, Lt. Col. I'll wait in my office for now."

I was averse to leaving him alone, worried that he might do something stupid. For the umpteenth time, I reminded myself that he'd gotten to the office of fuhrer and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his plans. I saluted and returned to my seat as he entered his office. I picked up my pen to continue where I had left off, but my hand was shaking so badly that it left a trail across the paper. I hated when it got like this. The only thing I could do was wait it out until it stopped.

* * *

**Kaliq**

A crowd had gathered around the body, preventing us from seeing it as we approached. Miles and his team maneuvered their way to the front. I remained behind with Mida since we were not official personnel. Looking around, I couldn't find Agniya or Cemal, and I was grateful for that. No doubt they had heard, but they were smart enough to know to stay away. If Vedran and Yasef were somewhere in the crowd, they'd be too short for me to spot them. I hoped they didn't have to see this.

The soldiers began setting up a perimeter, pushing the spectators back. In the movement, I caught a glimpse of the crime. An older man, not old enough to be my father, but significantly older than me, was hanging upside-down from an unfinished roof. He'd been stripped of all his clothing and beaten severely. His face was bloated, probably from the stress of being suspended upside-down. My breath caught as I recognized him, despite the disfiguration. I didn't know him personally, but he lived on the next street over from me. He was a gruff man, kept to himself, but he was very good in a crisis. When people started panicking over the tainted water supply, he rigged a filtering system out of basic household materials that could be placed over the spouts on the tanks within a day of the news getting out. I couldn't remember his family name, but his given name was Diya. I could feel the anger building up inside me, such a familiar feeling.

Mida's hand reached up to touch mine, bringing me back into focus. I scanned the crowd again. I saw one of Osman's friends toward the front. He was glaring at Miles and his men, and the woman next to him was whispering violently in his ear. Leaning down, I pointed them out to Mida, who nodded. I was concerned that Osman and his followers would be incited into full out rebellion from this brutality. Mida turned her head to the side, tears clearly visible in her eyes.

"Let's get out of here." she pleaded. I responded by wheeling her chair back in the direction of the infirmary. When we were within sight, she gripped the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white.

"What is it?"

Her voice was dulled but firm. "We need to relocate the patients. The infirmary is too close to the command center." She was afraid of an attack. No, not afraid, certain. No one in the infirmary knew about the lynching, yet, but Osman probably did. She was right; we had to act quickly.

In the infirmary, I asked a nurse to take me to the head physician. He was performing surgery on a broken leg, so Mida spoke to the logistics manager. They already had an evacuation plan in place, but that involved moving the critical patients into the now-demolished Kanda Gathering House. I could feel Mida's despair at his words. She wanted to stay and come up with a plan, right then and there, but the officer was called away to deal with a new order of penicillin that had been delayed. He left us in the hallway feeling ignored.

After a moment of standing there in disbelief, Mida asked me to take her home. When I headed down the hall to her room, she stopped me. "Not there. I can't stay here." Her voice broke and she dropped her head into her hands.

I knelt down in front of her, putting my hand on her knee. "It's going to be all right. You can stay with me." She nodded and I went back to stand behind her chair. "We can handle this."

* * *

**Hawkeye**

One of the soldiers under Miles called two hours later to report. The victim was Diya Samad, a middle-aged man from Kanda. He'd been wounded in the war and was a supporter of the military's presence in the reconstruction. His death might sway those still on the fence against continued military intervention. The fuhrer, after hearing this, sat with his head rested on his hand for several minutes. I glanced at the clock. He was going to be late for the Parliament Committee on the Constitution, which I had worked very hard to move to this afternoon. He needed time to grieve, of course, but the world kept turning, no matter what happened. The most important thing was to focus on living, moving forward.

Thankfully, the phone rang, making him look up. I picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Greetings, Lt. Col. Hawkeye." Major Armstrong's voice chimed through the receiver.

"Major Armstrong, it's been a while." I tried to keep my voice light.

"Yes, indeed it has. I hope that your new position is treating you well."

"Thank you. If you're calling about the meeting, Fuhrer Mustang is on his way." Major Armstrong, as the Parliament Sergeant at Arms, he sometimes attended committee meetings, particularly those with controversial debates.

"That is well and good, but I am calling about something else." He paused and resumed in hushed tones. "I have received some sensitive information that I am reluctant to relay over the phone. If possible, I would like to have a moment to speak to either you or the fuhrer sometime today."

I blinked, wondering what Armstrong could have gotten his hands on that was important enough to discuss in person with the fuhrer. "All right. I can talk with you during the meeting, if you'd like." Behind me, I could hear Mustang push back from his desk and stand.

"Thank you, Lt. Col. I will wait for you outside the meeting." I heard him hang up and put the receiver back down. The fuhrer waited for me to join him before leaving the room.

As we walked down the hall, he asked, "What did the major want?" He had seemingly recovered from the news from Ishval and held himself with bravado. I knew it was all a mask for the soldiers we passed, and he was very good at putting on masks.

"He has some information he wants to deliver to me in person. I'll be talking to him while you're in the meeting." I spoke nonchalantly, as if this was a mundane occurrence. From the way his back shifted slightly, I could tell he understood the unusual nature of Armstrong's request.

"I'm surprised you have the free time to talk to him, given your responsibilities to your commanding officer." His tone was mocking, just another part of the play he put on every day.

I smiled, preparing the retort he knew was coming. "I thought you would know, sir, that water-filled spray-bottles work just as well at getting flame alchemists to carry their own weight as getting dogs to stay off the couch."

His smile was genuine at that. "I constantly underestimate you, Lt. Col." His voice had a decidedly familiar tone, so familiar that it worried me. He seemed to realize this as well, and his smile widened as his mask slipped back into place. I thanked the powers that be that we weren't still in his offices, where things like that weren't avoided. When he started dating Gracia, he began acting awkward when we weren't focusing on something else. I assumed he was still uncomfortable with the whole situation and blamed me for it, since I proposed the idea.

We walked the remainder of the distance in silence, occasionally nodding at people as they passed by. We crossed the courtyard to the parliament building and through the main corridor to where the smaller conference rooms were located. Armstrong was waiting in the hallway and saluted as we approached him.

"Good afternoon, Fuhrer Mustang and Lt. Col. Hawkeye. As always, it is a pleasure to see you."

"Good to see you, too, Major." Mustang answered. "I understand you have some news for my office. I'll leave you with my adjutant for this." He nodded at me before entering the conference room.

Major Armstrong turned behind him to look down the corridor. "Thank you for speaking with me so promptly, Lt. Col."

"You implied that it was urgent." His obvious reluctance to be overheard gave me the urge to look over my shoulder as well. "Let's go into one of the conference rooms." I reasoned that it was late enough in the day that most of the rooms on this hallway would be empty. Sure enough, the room directly to the left of where Mustang's meeting was taking place was vacant.

I flipped the light switch as we entered and then turned to face the major. He shut the door very quietly. When he spoke, it was just loud enough to reach my ears, but soft enough that it didn't reach the opposite wall. "Several members of parliament have received threatening letters. From the contents, it is obvious that the author has inside knowledge of proceedings and military organization. The handwriting is inconsistent, but I have reason to believe they originate from inside the military."

Threatening letters were not uncommon, but this seemed a bit more than that. "On what grounds do you conclude that they were sent from inside the military?"

Armstrong drew an envelope from his jacket and passed it to me. I could see the Amestrian seal plainly, and when I opened the letter, it was written on military stationary. The letters were irregularly spaced and sized, implying that it was written by multiple people. Multiple people, writing the same letter. We were dealing with a group rather than one discontented soldier. If the other letters were like this, then the group must be organized in some fashion. The letter was addressed to Josef Duval, the Speaker.

_"Speaker Duval,_

_If parliament continues to limit the power of military officers, as it has in the recently passed Bill 17.1, we will be forced to take drastic measures against you and your family. We understand your son just celebrated his third birthday. If you do not comply, that may be his last. Bring Bill 17.1 back up for discussion and ensure it is overturned. Remember that it's the military who call the shots in Amestris. Try to change the privileges in the ranks above lieutenant again, and we will not send you a warning letter before directing the consequences."_

I put the letter back into the envelope and handed it to Armstrong. "It does seem to be from the military. How many members of parliament received these?"

"Twelve, each of them receiving different messages. Most of them concern the legislation mentioned in that letter, but a few talk about the recent negotiations with Aerugo."

I remembered the bill they were angry about. It altered very little in terms of actual power. If anything, the worst repercussion would be that future legislation would not be available to the military before it was available to parliament. "Did any of them mention Ishval?"

Armstrong seemed confused. "No, none at all." Then the Wardens were not involved in this.

"I'll speak to Fuhrer Mustang about this and communicate with you later. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. For now, I can promise that guards will be assigned to anyone who received such a letter."

"Thank you, Lt. Col. It brings me relief that you will dedicate your hard work to this case." His voice was dangerously close to his ripping-off-shirt tone.

"Of course, major." He saluted me and we walked out of the room. Checking the clock on the wall, the meeting wasn't close to over, so I went back to my office to wait and finish up some paperwork. Between the recent developments in Ishval, drafting a new constitution, and this, we were going to be working overtime for weeks.

* * *

Author's Note: It's finally done (this chapter, not the whole thing). The next chapter will be coming out probably in a few weeks. I'm going to London in a month, and that'll put a damper on this (probably, although sometimes that sort of thing makes me write more, like finals). One plot line should be resolved soon, just in time to reintroduce another. Reviewing helps me update faster (not because I wait to be reviewed, but because the emails remind me to work on it), so if you want another chapter out sooner, send me a PM or review or make this website send me an email, somehow.


	16. Warmth

**Author's Note:** I'm back! I will not apologize for the delay, but I can guarantee that I'm not dropping this story. I'm too excited about the ending. Thanks to Cap'nHoozits for the review! This chapter is much MUCH lighter than the previous chapter, but don't worry. It'll get depressing again pretty quick :)

* * *

**Hawkeye**

I sat down to read Havoc's report for the first time. It had been a busy day, what with the representative from Aerugo here to negotiate terms to end the conflict. We'd received the report about three hours ago, right in the middle of a heated argument about the border of the Amestrian city Usteril. The city had been repeatedly sieged and claimed by both sides during the course of the war. Aerugo currently claimed it, but Amestris had owned the land before the conflict started. In the end, Aerugo was given ownership of the land, in exchange for a larger portion of the region southeast of South City.

Havoc reported that they had found the boy who had been with Mida when the Wardens attacked the Kanda Gathering House. He'd explained that he recognized the man who'd attacked them as a man from Dublith. He'd given the Ishvallans living in the slums near the city a particularly difficult time, refusing their business and encouraging others to buy land out from underneath them, forcing them to move. Upon further examination, Havoc discovered that the man's name was Lucas Tosetti, a plumber from Dublith. They obtained a picture and showed it to Mida, who then confirmed that he was the man who attacked them. They were searching for Tosetti and expected to find him within a day or two.

There had been no new developments so far as the unrest among the Ishvallans was concerned. Osman was still vocal, as usual, and he did have a few others with him, but they had not made any move on large or violent enough to report. Kaliq remained a liaison between the military and the Ishvallan Council of Elders.

I reached the end of the report and sat back in my chair. The fuhrer was not alone in his frustration about his actions taken to help with this. Things in Central moved so slowly. No, that's not true. Things in the fuhrer's office moved slowly. Everything was done through a drawn-out process for which there were hundreds of rules, overseen by at least twenty people, and reviewed by many more. I am very good when it comes to following through with the rules, but it was beginning to frustrate me, that Havoc was out there, his hands shoulder-deep in an investigation, and I was here in Central, negotiating with a representative for hours over the wording of one sentence on one page of a hundred-page treaty. I could feel the restlessness building up in my chest, and I took a deep breath. In, out, slowing my thoughts and my heartbeat. This is what it took to reach Mustang's goals, and I would follow through until the end.

A few minutes later, while I was organizing the fuhrer's schedule for next week, I heard someone knock on the door. "Come in," I called, taking a moment to straighten the papers on my desk before looking up.

Fuhrer Grumman was smiling at me, his hair slightly more frazzled than normal, his face thinner. He was in civilian clothes, which I was unaccustomed to. "Good afternoon, Lt. Col. Hawkeye." he said.

I stood up and gave a salute. "Good afternoon, Fuhrer Grumman, sir." Dropping my salute, I asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He chuckled. "Polite as always, I see. It's been some time since I've seen you and Mustang, so I thought I'd come by. How are you doing?"

For all that he appeared older and weaker, I knew that he was still as sharp as he ever was. He wouldn't stop by just to chat, especially considering he knew what a day in the fuhrer's office looked like. "I'm doing well. We're in the middle of negotiations with Aerugo and the investigation in Ishval." While I was speaking, I couldn't sense anything from his demeanor about his purpose here, but I knew it wouldn't take long. He didn't like beating around the bush, despite his infamous subtlety.

His eyes softened. "It's a terrible situation, Ishval. I'm just glad it didn't happen on my watch. How is Fuhrer Mustang holding up?"

I smiled. His concern for my commanding officer was genuine; it always had been. "As well as can be expected. It bothers him, being stuck here while they are struggling."

His eyebrows raised in agreement. "I would imagine so. But he's had a bit of fun, too, with his new friend, or so I've heard." He smirked to the side. "I never would have picked him to go after a woman like her."

So he was here for the inside scoop. "He changed after the Promised Day. He knew he wanted more than his previous flings, and Gracia is a lovely woman." I would not give him anything. I'd stick to the story we'd all decided on and leave him high and dry.

"She is indeed. Actually, I'd like to get to know her better. I'd like to host a dinner in honor of the fuhrer's first successful three months. I'll host it at my estate, and invite a few close friends. Do you think that will work with Mustang's schedule?"

I blinked. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. I flipped through the next few weeks, and went over the list of events I hadn't yet scheduled in my head. "Yes, that would work. Thank you for your support."

He waved his hand at me. "It's nothing. Would the week after next suit your schedule?"

Looking at the dates in question, I nodded. He had nothing scheduled for the evenings then, other than a date with Gracia. "What night did you have in mind?"

"Friday, if that's possible." It was, and we settled it. I was a little uncertain about going to a dinner at Grumman's home, but I knew the fuhrer would make me go. Fuhrer Grumman didn't stay long after that. If I didn't know better, I would think he was just as uncomfortable around me as I was around him.

* * *

**Kaliq**

In the days that followed the brutal attack, we kept our ears to the ground, looking for any sign that Osman would be making his move. At the same time, Mida wanted to spend more time with Agniya and the boys. If something did happen, she wanted to be as close to her - our - makeshift family as possible. Agniya was having a very hard time by herself. Losing Suraya destroyed part of her, and she had difficulty focusing on everyday tasks. Mida helped her as much as she was able. She was going to be confined to a wheelchair for at least a few more weeks, but she helped keep Yasef occupied.

We had just returned to my home one night when she did something incredibly foolish. I had turned my back for a second, just to light the lamp on the table, when I heard a thud and she yelped. She was lying face down in front of the chair, her legs bent behind her as she pushed herself up with her hands. Toby, who had been coming up to greet us, scampered away, barking.

I rushed to her and knelt down. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm fine. A little sore, but nothing's hurt."

I helped her back into the chair, lifting her up in my arms. There was a moment when she was very close to my chest and I could feel her breath moving the sash. My face flushed, but she was too focused on her movements to notice, Ishvala be thanked.

Once she was settled, I pushed her over to the table and sat at the bench. "What happened?"

She looked down, a faint smile revealing her embarrassment. "I thought I would surprise you."

I frowned. "Surprise me?"

She nodded. "I'd been practicing with Agniya and the doctors. I tried to stand up."

My eyes widened. I was … I don't know what I was. Shocked that she was ready to try standing, angry that she attempted it without help, touched that she wanted to show me how far she'd come, and worried that she may have hurt herself again. I reached for her hand and gripped it firmly. "Don't do that again, please." My words sounded harsh, and I hated myself for the grief in her eyes.

"I won't." She opened her mouth to continue, but closed it again.

"What?" I tried to keep the harshness from my tone, but I don't know if I succeeded. Her face didn't change, and she shook her head. "Please, Mida. I'm sorry that I seem angry. I'm just worried about you." I loosened my hand, but she gripped it tighter.

She blushed and stared down at our hands. "I just wanted to show you that I'm doing better. You've done so much - you are always there for me, you let me stay in your home - and I feel like I've done nothing for you. I wanted to show you that I am getting closer to being able to rely on myself and not be a burden to you." She stopped suddenly, her face still red.

I smiled. "You are not a burden. You could never be a burden. Being around you is a privilege. If I could be around you for the rest of my life, I would be the happiest man alive." The words came out of my mouth before I knew what I said, and when I realized what I said, my face froze and my heart dropped into my stomach.

Her eyes widened as she stared at me. I tried my best not to avoid her gaze, knowing I had to face what I said. Her mouth widened into a smile and she put her other hand on top of mine. "Thank you. If I could be with you for the rest of my life, I would nearly burst with happiness." Her fingers caressed the back of my hand, giving me pleasant goosebumps all over my arm. She brought up her other arm to my face, her smile much warmer, much more intimate. I leaned into her touch, closing my eyes and letting the joy of her presence fill me from head to toe. A strange energy flowed through me as we sat like that, urging me on. I reached up to pull her hand down from my face, so that I could bring her face closer to mine. Her hand rested on my shoulder, drawing me in. I checked her eyes for any trace of hesitation. Finding nothing but earnest compassion, I closed the space between us.

I brushed her lips with mine, feeling the softness of her skin and revelling in the new connection between us. I stayed there no more than a few seconds before pulling back. Her eyes were filled with light, and as the moment ended, she laughed slightly and bit her lower lip.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

"I'm getting ready to pick up Gracia. Would you like a ride?" Fuhrer Mustang stretched his arms out into his sleeves of his suit coat, already sure of my answer. Sometimes if we were headed the same direction, we would ride together.I didn't own a car - it had never seemed necessary.

"Thank you, sir. I just need to finish this sheet and then I can leave." I had a hard time focusing on the words on the paper as I thought about what was to come. My stomach had risen into my chest, and my heart into my throat. I set the pen back into the holder and tucked the papers into their rightful place in my desk. "I'm ready, sir."

"Good." His mouth was set, as it always was when he had a date with Gracia after work. I knew it hurt him, but he understood why this was necessary.

In the car, we sat in uncomfortable silence, which was becoming more and more common in the past few weeks. My palms were moist as I thought about tonight and what I would be doing. I could face down many enemies and stand up to people whose authority far surpassed mine, but this? I had very little experience in this department, and I wanted it that way. Talking to Winry and Ed and Al were special circumstances, and even then I was not sure what to do. But Gracia had asked me, as a last resort, so I agreed.

Elicia opened the door to let us in. "Hi Uncle Roy. Mom's finishing her hair and she told me to talk to you before she left." She smiled a sideways grin that made my heart tense for a moment. I knew that grin very well. It was Maes's. I felt Mustang stiffen for a moment, and then he relaxed.

"Thank you. Can we come in?" Elicia nodded and stood back for us to enter. She smiled at me as I passed and I smiled back. That was all that I knew to do. Smile at children when they looked at you, advice from Rebecca back in the academy.

"Hello, Elicia."

"Hello, Miss Riza." I didn't know what to say to her after that, so I stood and waited for something to happen. Elicia walked in front of us, expecting us to follow, and led us into the sitting room. She plopped down on a cushioned chair across the room and stared happily at us.

"Did you have a good day at school?" Mustang asked.

Elicia nodded. "We went to art class today and learned how to press flowers. Would you like to see?" Mustang nodded and Elicia hopped off the chair over to the corner where a collection of recently used bags laid. She pulled out a simple notebook and brought it over to us. When she opened it, there was a crushed flower, its petals bent at odd angles, lying towards the binding.

"That's lovely. You did a great job." Mustang's voice was impressed and genuine, much softer than I was used to hearing. Elicia then showed us some other art projects, enough to show that while she certainly had the enthusiasm, she needed practice. I remembered my art projects. I never liked them; I thought they were too impractical. It was when she had pulled out her 'portfolio' that Gracia came down the stairs.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I thought I'd have more time after work today." A simple lilac dress rippled as she moved, her shoulders covered with a light shawl. Her hair was beautifully curled, just enough for a gentle wave. She was elegantly pretty. We stood up to greet her and Mustang smiled as he looked at her. It was more of a familiar, friendly smile than most men use to greet their dates, but it was kind.

"You look beautiful." He said, his tone brotherly. Nevertheless, she blushed.

"Thank you." She turned to me. "And thank you for watching Elicia for me. I hope I didn't mess up your plans."

I smiled. "It's fine. I didn't have any plans tonight. And I haven't really had a chance to spend time with her, so I was glad of the chance." Most of that was mostly true.

"Well, it means a lot. I know Elicia is excited." She smiled at her daughter who suddenly blushed, unusual for someone of her disposition. And then I knew that Elicia was just as nervous as I was.

"We're going to have some fun, aren't we?" I asked her, trying to make my voice light and friendly. She smiled a little bit and then looked toward her mother. I wondered if Gracia had said something to her about me, that made her act so shy toward me. She didn't seem to have a problem talking to me the last time we met, nor talking to Mustang just a few minutes ago.

"I think it's time we left. Our reservation is in ten minutes." He seemed a little reluctant to leave, and if Gracia noticed, she ignored it.

On the way out the door, Gracia kept telling me details. "Make sure she's asleep by 9:30. If you have any problems, Mr. Burns across the hall is familiar with our routine. He's watched Elicia once or twice, but he hurt his leg recently."

I tried to assuage her concerns, but I'm not sure she was convinced. I hadn't really babysat before, in her defense, and my reputation wasn't exactly maternal. The door finally shut behind them and the room was suddenly silent. I turned to face Elicia, who had her hands clasped behind her back.

"All right now. Are you hungry for dinner yet?" She nodded. "Okay. Your mom said there was something in the fridge to heat up." I walked off toward the kitchen, glad of something to do. I could hear Elicia's footsteps behind me. I don't know if she didn't want to be alone or if she didn't trust me in her kitchen. Probably both.

I was silent as I prepared the food, waiting to see if Elicia would say anything. When she didn't, I asked, "How does it feel, that your mom is dating someone?" I didn't know how she would react to that question.

She was silent for a few moments, then I heard rustling and assumed she shrugged. "It's okay. I don't really remember much about my dad. And Uncle Roy is nice."

I glanced at her for a second, trying to gage her expression. She was staring at the table, sitting on a chair, her shoulders a little hunched like she was trying to seem insignificant. It never occurred to me that she wouldn't remember Hughes, but she was only three at the time. I had very few memories of my mother, who died when I was older than Elicia had been. Mustang had always had a soft spot for Elicia, especially after her father died. Whenever we'd be in Central, he'd stop by about once a week, and if we'd gone somewhere far away, he would always bring her a souvenir. I didn't think she would have any problem with him being around more often.

"Miss Riza?" Her voice sounded quieter, like she was nervous.

"Yes?" I turned my attention back to the stove, so that she might feel more at ease.

"Do you like kids?"

I froze for a second. I had been asked many questions over the years, but not that. It was easier to talk about being a soldier or working for the fuhrer or fighting in a war or being raised by a single dad. I didn't have very many friends growing up; most of the other children separated themselves from me because of my father.I thought about the children I had encountered - Ed and Al, Winry, Mei Chang, and a few Ishvallan children - it was never a question of liking them for their age.

"I don't know." I answered honestly. "I haven't met very many children. But overall, the ones I have met seem very nice." My answer didn't seem to satisfy her.

She seemed more confident to ask me questions now that I had shown myself willing to respond. "Do you want to have kids?"

What exactly did Gracia say to her? "If the right time and place and person comes along, I'll think about it then. Right now, it doesn't seem very practical to have children." Truthfully, I did want children. I had wanted to be a mother since I was young, but as I grew up and I saw so much pain and tragedy, I knew I never could. And then there was Mustang and Ishval. After that, my life had one goal and a definite stopping point, leaving no room for children.

"Why not?" Her spunk was creeping back into her voice.

Okay, she was definitely trying to get to a point. "Well, I've just been promoted recently and I need to focus on my work right now. I also want to be in a steady relationship if I have a child." Both of those were true, and both were valid reasons. I hoped she would hurry up and say what it was she was thinking.

Then, the food was ready and I ladled out the stew into bowls. "Here you go, Elicia." I sat

a bowl down in front of her and we began to eat. For a few moments, there was blessed silence.

It didn't last long. "How come you aren't in a steady relationship?"

This time, I didn't miss a beat, blowing on my spoonful before answering. "I haven't met someone I like and I'm too busy at work to go out and find someone."

"What about someone at work?" Considering her previous suggestion that I marry Mustang, I could almost guess what she was insinuating. Perhaps my question prompted this line of interrogation.

"I don't like anyone at work, not enough for that. And there are the fraternization laws, which state that soldiers cannot be romantically involved with other soldiers."

"Oh." She slurped some broth, seemingly done asking questions.

"Why the curiosity?" I asked. She looked up at me suddenly and I smiled.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I thought it would bother you that Uncle Roy is dating my mom. I thought that's why you asked me." There was definitely something else.

"Is that all? Then why did you ask me about kids?" She stirred her stew around without taking a bite or acknowledging my question. "Did your mom say something?" She nodded. "What did she say?"

She frowned. "She said that you haven't spent much time around kids and you might be shy."

I smiled. Gracia was just trying to help me out, by impressing on Elicia that she might need to act a little less impulsive around me. "She's right. I haven't spent much time around kids. Do I seem shy to you?"

She shook her head. "You seem nice. You're different than my mom or Uncle Roy, but you're nice."

With that understanding between us, we spent the rest of the evening talking about school, and I explained to her what "Uncle Roy" and I did at work. I put her to bed and spent the rest of the evening reading. Gracia and Mustang came back around 10:30, and we all sat down for some tea before he and I left.

* * *

**Author's** **Note: **I've already started working on the next chapter, and it's a doozy. No guarantees for when it'll get published, though, as school started back this week.


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